


Butterfly with Broken Wings

by VECTORmovies



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:25:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9001552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VECTORmovies/pseuds/VECTORmovies
Summary: Afghanistan, 1986. With the threat of Skull Face gone, Diamond Dogs flourishes and becomes a superpower among PF organizations. Big Boss is a legend and jobs are not hard to come by. But the Phantom Pain never lets up. After everything he has done and accomplished, Snake can't help but still feel empty inside. But when a ghost of the past returns, a new chapter begins.--There are always stories to tell, and the space between "The Phantom Pain" and "Metal Gear" is fertile ground. This story sets out to recount those events without breaking the already established lore and canon of the games.





	1. JUST ANOTHER DAY IN A WAR WITHOUT END

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, and thank you for taking the time out of your day to read my story.
> 
> Butterfly with Broken Wings has been a work in progress for a long time, starting shortly after I finished "The Phantom Pain". Since then, I have posted regularly on FanFiction.net with great reception from many fans. The past several months, I have been working diligently on updating and revising the entire story. What follows (currently exclusive to AO3) is the remastered version of my story.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

_This is a story for the fans; new and old.  
_ _It is not a fanfiction, it is a fans expansion._

 

 **JUST ANOTHER DAY IN A WAR WITHOUT END**  

* * *

 

"Boss..."

The echo of a man's voice dissolved, as if it was never there.

"Boss..."

Snake's eye snapped open, the voice, this time, touching his consciousness.

Gasping for a deep breath, Snake looked towards the man hovering over him. A black mask covered his face, but Snake recognized him as a Diamond Dog without mistake.

"I gave you an anti-venom."

Venom... a word that shot a searing pain through Snake's right arm as he blinked blindly, attempting to remember the events that had happened moments before. _Where's Quiet_?

"Where's Quiet?" This time his thoughts becoming words.

"I..." Though the mask covered his face, his eyes betrayed him, glancing away to avoid Snake's. "We've got to go."

Thoroughly conscious, Snake realized that they were not alone. Two more men, his men, crouched nearby keeping watch. The rhythmic beat of helicopter rotors had replaced the dull throbbing in his head. Snake grunted as the man helped him to his feet, but pushed him away before allowing himself to be supported on his shoulder. The soldier accepted his Boss' independence and turned towards his comrades.

"Let's go boys."

No exchange was needed as the three soldiers turned towards the helicopter, leaving Snake to himself. Snake stood in silence, scanning the sun-baked desert that stretched before him. It was as peaceful as ever. The wind had died, but the dry air was brittle and rough on the weary soldier’s face. How long since the sandstorm passed? He did not know. Exhaling a weary breath, nothing caught his attention... except for a trail of prints.

Snake blinked in disbelief at the small indentions in the sand, footprints traveling off into the distance. _They can't be, the perfect assassin doesn't leave a trace._ Was it possible she left them on purpose? He had to know for sure.

The trail was easy to follow, each step an equal distance apart. Only someone with such grace and careful placement could have created them. Each print was left with delicacy, avoiding rocks and small plants that would have obscured them. With each step, he pictured her leading him up the hillside, or was she walking away? Snake had hoped the former, but the end suggested the other as he soon reached the edge of the cliff, staring off towards the horizon. _No... no... that can't be all_. A scan of the area bore no fruit. The prints ended, just as surely as they had appeared.

Tilting his head upward, Snake closed his eye letting the cool breeze dry his sweat. Though he no longer had sight, Snake could have sworn he felt a tear forming in his right eye. The sound of a light tap broke the silence of the moment. Blinking, Snake turned his attention towards a barren tree standing alone atop the ridge. A cassette tape, attached to a thin string, tapped the dry bark whenever the wind picked up. Snake grabbed it, pulling it from its string. There was no note, no message, but it was in perfect condition, unaffected by the harsh weather around it. It was not there by accident. Slipping it into his cassette player, Snake pulled up his iDroid. The tape crackled with silence first. Then a voice came through.

 _"I did not choose to be Quiet. I wanted to express my feeling to you. If only we shared a common tongue."_ The message was short, but the words... beautiful. The weary soldier took a deep breath as he closed his eye. Her words continued.  _"Vengeance is what drove me to them... the only language left to me, revenge. But the words we shared... no, that was no language at all. That is why... I chose the language of gratitude instead, and go back to silence. I am Quiet... I am... the absence of words."_

The message had ended, but Snake remained... motionless. Her voice still touched his mind, the sweet accent of her words ringing in his ears. With a down cast eye, he knew... she was gone. The only thing he regretted the most...

... was not being able to say goodbye.

 

* * *

Two Years Later

The midday sun was blistering hot, more so than usual. Using his scarf, Snake dried the sweat that dripped down his brow and had begun to sting in his eye before drinking what remained of his canteen. The water was warm. Snake sensed D-Horse was uncomfortable as well, as the animal fidgeted underneath him.

"Easy there."

His rider’s hand running down the side of his neck was a sensation that comforted the weary animal. It did not last long as Snake returned his attention to the valley that stretched out in front of him. Snake remembered the same view, Ocelot by his side. Rescuing Kaz had been the beginning of their operations in Afghanistan, and yet, over two years later, they still had work coming in. Skull Face was gone, but the Soviets still occupied, and the Mujahideen still had a war to fight. War is good for business. Snake knew this better than anyone else.

D-Horse shifted his stance again, bringing Snake back from his thoughts. After another pat on the animals neck, Snake pulled out his iDroid.

 _"The target is located in Da Wialo Kallai."_ The sound of Kazs recorded briefing cracked in Snake's ear.  _"If our Intel is correct, his execution is scheduled around 1300 hours. Not a lot of time left. Obviously, we can not allow this to happen. This is the first solid lead we have had in a month, and the information dies with him if we allow the Soviets to kill the poor bastard. You know what to do Boss, get our unlucky dog out of there."_

Snake looked over the briefing notes. He recognized the picture of the captive as Running Sloth. Why he was assigned that codename Snake would never understand, but he was a damn fine Intel agent non-the-less.

Enough wasting time.

Closing his iDroid, Snake shifted his focus across the valleys expanse. Da Wialo Kallai shimmered in the distance as if it was a mirage. The ride would not be long...

* * *

Business as usual within the Soviet outpost. Guards walking around and chatting amongst themselves, sleeping against a wall or a makeshift bed, hopelessly swatting flies away in the desert sun, and other daily tasks. Snake heard everything through the microphone equipped on his in-scope, but none of the conversations caught his attention. A comment about the legendary "Big Boss" would prompt him to crack a smile but it was nothing he hadn't heard before.

Scanning the village, the only thing to catch his attention was a single door'd hut, just beyond a small stream. Two guards stood fixed, equal distances from the door, another around the corner. Snake knew that would be the place; their behavior differed from the others in the village.

Satisfied with his recon, Snake returned the scope to his belt before dropping down from the rock he had perched himself on and began making his way towards the village. The chatter of Soviet soldiers grew louder as he got closer, but like a hunter, Snake kept enough distance to ensure the enemy could not identify him.

Approaching the hut, Snake counted two more guards he had not initially seen. Their attention was on each other though, making idle conversation while one lit himself a cigaret. Snake could smell the smoke as he approached, concealing himself behind a waist-high wall located a short distance from his target. Peaking over the rough stone, careful to avoid causing any disturbance, the hunter watched the group of soldiers. Their dust covered faces told him they must have been standing guard for some time. One even appeared to be holding in a yawn before releasing a heavy exhale. All of them, unaware of the venomous eye watching them carefully.

Holding his breath, Snake drew his AM D114 from its holster, pulling the slide cover back ever so carefully to check his weapon, ensuring that one was in the chamber. The hunter then produced a silencer, twisting it slowly on the end of the weapon. The air was stiller than usual, and each rotation of the silencer caused a metallic ring in Snake's ears. He was used to this sensation... the calm before the storm, the stillness that accompanied an approaching battle. One wrong move and the whole village would swarm his position like a pack of angry hornets.

Five soldiers, two on the opposite end of the building. Snake thought to himself as he planned his attack. If he took out the three in the rear, without alerting the two in the front, he would be in-and-out before anyone noticed what had happened. Peering over the crumbling wall again, two of the soldiers continued to talk amongst each other. The third had moved closer to Snakes position, but his attention was drawn to the ground, pushing the dusty rocks around with his boot. Now was the time.

A small, round rock proved to be the perfect distraction. A careful toss against a brick wall opposite Snakes position produced a loud enough thud to gain the attention of the three soldiers. With their backs turned to him, the Legendary Soldier exemplified his name. Like a deadly cobra, the snake struck at its prey with great precision. Producing a knife from his back, the predator sunk his teeth into the nearest soldier. The attack was as quick as it was silent, the sharp blade piercing its victim's back. Snake could feel the dull resistance as the razor edge sliced across the man's rib cage. Warm blood spat out, covering the hilt and hand that gripped it.

The victim lunged backward, but before he could cry out in agony, a bloodied hand was around his mouth and cheek. Little effort was needed to throw the paralyzed soldier to the ground. In the same motion, Snake came down on one knee, raising the sights of his weapon to his good eye. Time seemed to slow down as his muscles pulled the trigger. This moment was so natural that Snake often timed believed he was not in control, but rather, a demon of death. The two soldiers never had a chance to turn around. One after another, their brains ran out of two .45 caliber holes. One in the back of their head, the other... between their eyes. 

Their bodies went limp and crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dirt around them. The air was still silent and calm; Snake knew conflict had been avoided, at least for now. Retrieving his knife, he moved towards the small hut.

The door was already unlocked and pushed open effortlessly as the creak of the rusty hinges pierced the still air. The room itself was dark, forcing Snake to blink several times before his vision adjusted to the change of light. A figure lay motionless in the corner, his back turned to the man that had just entered. Snake wasted no time crossing the cracked and sand covered floor, hovering over the figure. Careful not to disturb the prisoner, he grabbed the man's shoulder and rolled him on his back. His face was gray and lips cracked, but he was alive... still alive. Relieved, Snake hoisted the unlucky dog over his shoulders. Movement outside caught his attention.

_Shit..._

The door swung open in the opposite room as two soldiers entered the hut. Sensing the approaching danger, Snake succumbed to the demon again. The prisoner hit the floor as the predator lunged towards the surprised men. Using his bionic arm, Snakes first strike was aimed at the closest soldier. Though he could not feel the contact, the sound of a sharp crack let Snake know he had just broken the man's jaw. The soldier went limp, slumped against the wall as Snake turned towards his next victim, drawing his knife. He wasn't sure if it was anger or fear he saw in the man's eyes but it didn't matter as it was soon replaced by a foggy haze, the snake's teeth plunged into his sternum.

The air returned to silence.

* * *

The landing zone was not far from where the prisoner had been held. The hill and tree coverage always made for easy extractions without the risk of being spotted. Snake was counting on this, swiftly making his way out of the occupied village.

Upon arrival, the rescued prisoner was still unconscious; though with the help of the days light, Snake attributed this to the possibility of malnourishment and dehydration. Nothing he could do for him here, especially with him in an unconscious state.

Minutes passed before the sound of rhythmic chopper blades could be heard in the distance. A voice cracked over the radio a few seconds later.

_"This is Devil Dog, approaching the LZ."_

Like a wave of water, sand was cast into the air as the helicopter crested the hill of the designated landing zone. It was of tilt-rotor design, resembling the V—22 Osprey being developed in the States. Though considerably larger than its predecessor, Devil Dog had its advantages. The tilt-rotor functionality allowed for faster, more precise landings on almost any terrain. Distance was also less of a concern, the helicopter being able to fly farther and faster than anything Diamond Dogs had used before. Considering Mother Base (and Diamond Dogs) had grown exponentially since the Skull Face incident, Snake could understand why Kaz had wanted to upgrade their military hardware.

Snake put his arm up to his face, trying to avoid the kick up of sand, as the helicopter descended on his position. Before touching ground, though, a ramp in the rear lowered.

 _"On station at LZ, come aboard Boss."_ Snake's radio cracked.

Adjusting the man on his shoulders, Snake took a step onto the helicopter's ramp. In an instant, the entire atmosphere changed. The harsh Afghan environment soon became the comforting hum of metal and steel, and for that, Snake was grateful. Regardless of design, the helicopter had always been his home away from home; and refuge. Maybe it was disillusioned, but there was a strange sense of somber peace within its steel walls. The calm before the inevitable storm, a feeling he had grown so used to.

Devil Dog was Snakes personal transport helicopter and was modified to be as such. Whereas the standard version (used by the bulk of Diamond Dogs) was designed to transport up to 24 operatives to Areas of Operation, Devil Dog had a majority of its seating arrangements removed to accommodate its Boss' needs. Near the front of the cabin was a cot and medical equipment, an upgrade Snake had been grateful to have on several occasions. A munitions and weapons rack was housed on the opposite wall, providing easier access to weapon variations that did not require a return to Mother Base. Devil Dog was also equipped with long range communication radios. The equipment removed several rows of seating but was beneficial in reducing interference when contacting Mother Base. What was left of the personalized craft was seating for 7 people. Unlike Pequod before, Devil Dog consisted of a crew of 5. Snake had attempted to learn all their names, or, at least their designated code names. Pequod (keeping his name from before as a form of symbolism) was the pilot, Doc was a combat medic, Wasp was the side door gunman, Wire was the communications operator, and Wrench was the helicopters flight engineer.

Upon stepping onboard, Doc and Wrench helped haul the rescued prisoner from Snake's shoulders, carrying him towards the medical station.

"Mother Base, this is Devil Dog... we have secured the package and are RTB."

Snake looked towards Wire as he spoke. He was the youngest of the group at the age of 22, only having just been recruited. Had it not been for Ocelots suggestion, he may have not even ended up on The Boss' personal transport. Regardless, he was experienced at his job.

Snake regained focus with the jerk of the helicopter as it began ascending. Looking out the rear, the village of Da Wialo Kallai became smaller as Devil Dog scurried away. Snake kept his eye on the ever reducing details of the village until it disappeared, washed away by the warm sands. The Boss remained still, watching the horizon, until the loading bay hatch had completely closed; sealing with a whispered hiss.


	2. PHANTOMS

**PHANTOMS**

* * *

 

"Boss..."

The accented voice was beautiful, touching Snake's consciousness like the sweet tune of a harp. But it was... sad, and sounded so distant.

"Boss..."

Snake opened his eye, blinded by a ray of light that flooded the cabin of the ACC as if, in that moment, the heavens had stamped out the black hearts of man. When his vision came into focus... there she was, standing before him.

"Quiet?" Snake’s voice cracked, uncertainty rolling off his tongue.

She did not respond, standing with her hands on the cabin's ceiling, holding herself as she leaned forward. She was close to Snake, uncomfortably so, but he did not feel threatened.

"Quiet. Its been so long." Snake spoke with a husky whisper, raising his hand to her cheek. The sensory nodes in his fingers longed for the velvet softness of her skin, but his hand trembled with hesitation. He did not go through with it, clenching his hand into a fist as he pulled away. Quiet had not taken her eyes off of him, crooking her head to the side.

Her face was as soft and vibrant as he remembered, complemented beautifully by two big green eyes that shimmered like bright stars in the night sky. When he had known her, she never spoke a word. But her eyes... Snake could understand her through the emotion in her eyes. Staring at her now, he recognized an almost child-like curiosity as she followed his slightest movements, waiting to see what he would do next. Snake broke eye contact before she did, tracing the curves of her figure with his eye. It had been so long, but he never forgot what she looked like. Her slender body. Her lightly colored skin that was smooth and unblemished.

Looking back up, Snake jumped from his slumped position with a gasp. The beautiful face he had seen moments before was wrapped in pain and agony. Her skin had turned pale; cracked lips, leaking blood in the corners. Her piercing green eyes wavered as tears formed. But they were not tears she shed... but the metallic sheen of red.

Snake gasped for air that was not there. "Quiet!"

A violent jerk woke Snake from his sleep. Everything was quiet, except for the low hum of Devil Dog as it glided through the night. The air was cold and uninviting, chilling the sweat that had formed on his brow. Snake was grateful no one noticed his panicked expression and heavy breathing. Calming down, he inhaled a deep breath, holding it as he leaned back against the seat. Exhaling, Snake felt his heart slowing down. It had been two years. He thought about her every once in a while but never had he seen her in a dream. And in such... a horrifying condition. Still shaken, Snake fruitlessly tried to forget the image that had burned itself into his mind.

 _"Sorry about that bump back there boys."_ Pequod's voice came over the intercom. _"Storms approaching, we're about to get some bad turbulence."_

Looking around the cabin, Snake checked on his men. Sitting across from him, Wasp rested in a deep slumber. The grizzled man was almost 56 by this time, having defected from the Soviet army and joined Diamond Dogs shortly after the Skull Face incident. It was not long until he was assigned to Devil Dog with the Boss; 'a perfect match' Ocelot had jokingly commented considering the old man did little talking; not being a fluent English speaker. Snake didn't mind though.

Wire continued to monitor the communications equipment. Apart from him being 22, all Snake knew about the kid was that he was a new recruit. Ocelot had mentioned he was from the States; earned a degree in technological engineering, but for whatever reason decided to leave after hearing about the legend of 'Big Boss'. Maybe he was just a kid trying to live some heroic fantasy, but in his short time working for Diamond Dogs, Snake had no complaints.

Doc sat next to Running Sloth, the rescued unlucky dog. He was an experienced combat medic and one of Diamond Dogs oldest members, having been recruited during Kazs' initial search campaign. Though Snake did not work with him much prior to a year ago, Doc was the man who had given him the anti-venom.

Wrench sat in the cockpit, running co-pilot with Pequod. She was American, same as Wire, but had spent ten years in the Armed Forces prior to joining Diamond Dogs. She was sweet and like a mother to everyone on board, especially Wrench, but at times, could display great bitterness. The U.S. Military had discharged her after an IED blew off the bottom half of her left leg. After a brief period of depression and alcoholism she came into contact with Kaz, who offered her a second chance. Though her prosthetic leg prevented her from a combat role, she found plenty of work within the ranks of Diamond Dogs.

The light patter of rain outside brought Snake’s attention to a circular window behind his seat. The reflection in the glass was that of an aging soldier; tired of the fight, but knowing there was no other life for him. For when the soldier died, he would not go to Heaven or Hell. Beyond his reflection, flashes of lightning danced within the dark, violent clouds. Occasionally, a bolt would strike near, causing the cabin to rattle with the disturbed air. The soldier though, would not be disturbed; continuing to watch the storm as it twisted and morphed within the reflection of his own head.

Turning back around, Snake leaned against his seat and closed his eye. It was not long until he fell back asleep, though, she did not return to him again.

* * *

It was early in the morning when Devil Dog began its approach on Mother Base. The storm had passed hours earlier, leaving a heavy dew in the air that refracted the light of the sun as it rose above the endless sea. Colors of orange and red danced around the clear sky, shimmering in such a way that it could have blinded anyone who tried to gaze upon it. Snake paid little attention though, having just woken up from a restless night.

 _"Tower, this is Devil Dog, requesting permission to land,"_ Pequod spoke over the radio.

 _"Permission granted Devil Dog, proceed to hanger 10."_ The response returned.

_"Roger that Tower.”_

Snake felt the shift in direction as the helicopter turned towards its destination. Standing up, he walked towards the rear of the cabin, pulling a switch on the wall. A high pitched siren echoed through the steel walls before being replaced by a sharp hiss; the hydraulics of the loading ramp shifting it into its open position. Snake waited for the ramp to lower before walking down it a short distance, Mother Base beginning to pass beneath him.

Much had changed in the past two years, Mother Base now accommodating over 1200 personal. Though the original platforms remained relatively unchanged, new platforms and different facilities had been added to accommodate the ever changing makeup of the Diamond Dogs. The most noticeable change was the addition of Hanger Platforms. After having upgraded to the considerably larger V—22s, larger landing zones were needed. The Hanger Platforms accomplished this with the added benefit of providing protective canopies. The platforms themselves maintained the standard hexagonal shape, with the landing zone square in the center. Along three sides of the of the landing zone was the hanger, large enough to house six birds. Labeled 10 to 13, Hanger 10 was located just off the original Command Platform, in between the Base Development Platform and the Intel Platform. Hanger 11 was built just off the Medical Platform, with a walkway connecting the first and third deck. Hanger 12 found itself in a similar position near the R&D Platform, again, a walkway connecting the first and third deck. Hanger 13 differed from the other three. With the growth of personnel, Mother Base required expanded living quarters and barracks. To accommodate this need, two more decks had been added to the Combat Unit Platform just off the first and fourth deck. In doing so, a complete circle had been made. In the waters between, Hanger 13 was built, walkways connecting all six decks. Regardless of the added Hanger Platforms, the original landing pads had not been removed. Though many of the original helicopters had been decommissioned and scrapped for parts, Diamond Dogs still operated several of them for transportation between platforms. Ultimately, the skies over Mother Base had become much busier than they had been two years ago. As a result of the increased traffic, an Air Traffic Control Platform was constructed. Referred to as the 'Tower', the platform was built as a fifth deck to the Command Platform, between the Support and R&D Platforms. Its function was to coordinate and organize communications between helicopters both at the base and out in the field.

Mother Base was busy and full of life. Helicopters landed on distant platforms and jeeps drove the interconnecting bridges. Cranes operated on all platforms, moving supplies and equipment around. Another V—22 passed close by, heading out to sea. In the past two years, Diamond Dogs had expanded its presence around the Globe, sending strike teams to whatever job paid the most. Sometimes it involved supporting a coup against a government, others, the government against an insurrection. Most times it was simple wet work; assassination, extraction, protection, and everything else that came their way. Diamond Dogs did the jobs that governments did not want to do themselves, were they had full deniability. It was not a glorious life, but it was theirs, non-the-less.

Snake looked down as rows of tents passed beneath him. This was the new Refugee Platform. Built between the Medical and Combat Unit Platforms, it had finished construction five months ago but already housed over 300 people. Most of them were families, or... used to be. The platform itself was larger than the others but only comprised one deck. In the center was a building that acted as a bath house, kitchen, and communications hub. Beyond that, the deck consisted of rows of tents, each housing a different family. Conditions were not great and much of the space was cramped, but those that lived there were grateful; many having lost their homes around the world. Development for the platform had begun a year ago after a wet work job went wrong and resulted in civilian casualties. Snake himself had not been involved, but he had gotten word that their failed operation had destroyed several South African homes. Initially, refugees were permitted to stay in what was once used as the kids quarters, but as Diamond Dogs brought in more people, expanded living was required. Of course, Diamond Dogs received benefits from the platforms addition. In return for being provided a place to stay, a majority of the men had joined the Diamond Dog ranks. Those that did not wish to fight joined up elsewhere; base construction, supply support, medical assistance, and whatever jobs they could do to pay back the legendary 'Big Boss'.

With the Refugee Platform now in the distance, Devil Dog began flying over the Command Platform. Deck 4 passed underneath, then 3, then 2. Deck 1 was the most familiar to Snake. Though Mother Base now expanded miles beyond it with a web of interconnecting bridges, this was the original, the first platform Kaz had erected even before Snake had awoken. Devil Dog passed close by as it began its descent towards the hanger, the Diamond Dogs logo visible to Snake's eye.

 _"This is Devil Dog, we are... touching down."_ Pequod was an expert pilot and never missed his mark.

* * *

Snake braced himself as the helicopter touched down, the wheels impacting the steel ground. Standing a short distance from the already lowered ramp, four Diamond Dogs stood at attention, saluting their Boss in perfect synchronization. Between them was Kazuhira Miller; the one armed and one legged man, and Snakes best friend. The Diamond Dogs XO shifted his weight on his cane as he watched Snake walk down the ramp, giving a quick nod to his soldiers. Accepting the gesture of dismissal, the four soldiers marched past their Boss towards Devil Dog to provide assistance inside.

"Snake. Welcome back."

"Kaz."

The two began walking next to each other, Miller's cane tapping on the metal surface.

"The unlucky dog you extracted. How is he doing?" Miller inquired.

"He's stable."

"Good. We'll have the medical team check him out before questioning him."

Snake responded with a grunt. Miller continued.

"If his Intel proves to be accurate, we may have a solid lead on our target. The Soviet Commander that has got the Mujahideen running scared.”

"Shotmaker." Snake injected harshly.

“Yah. Unfortunately, that's the only name we have on the guy. I wish we knew more, I don’t like being left in the dark; but our contact had little he could tell us to begin with. Some of the Mujahideen don't even believe he exists. He’s like a ghost. But his work… ” Miller paused, halting as he glanced down to where his right arm used to be; the sleeve of his hollow jacket hanging towards the ground, shifting with the wind. “I thought we were done with this. I guess some things never change.”

Snake looked at his friend, a concerned sigh escaping his lips. “Shotmaker is not Skull Face, he never will be. Why continue this path of self destruction?”

Miller snapped his head back towards Snake, lifting his stump of an arm out from his body so that the sleeve hung down like a jacket too large for a scarecrow. “Cipher broke my body. As long as I live, Skull Face will be apart of me. He is apart of you as well.” Miller nodded his head toward Snake’s prosthesis.

Snake did not break eye contact. He did not need to glance towards his arm, understanding the point Miller was making. “But I don't let it control me.” Snake turned to continue down the platform.

“No… but she did.”

Snake stopped, Miller's words ringing in his ears as he processed them. The tone of his voice was spiteful, like a knife on his tongue. Turning back, the two men met glances, each anticipating the others next move. Snake remained silent…

“She was with Cipher… and you accepted her as one of our own.”

Snake felt the twitch of his temple before breathing to calm himself. “Kaz… now is not the time.”

Turning before Miller could respond, Snake continued down the platform. He could hear the sound of Miller’s cane following at a distance.

* * *

The orange and red colors in the sky had vanished by time Snake and Miller reached the Command deck. The day was still young, but the sun had risen high enough that shimmers of white light sparkled across the crystal blue sea.

"DD! Stay!"

Snake heard the voice of Ocelot call out before seeing the large, wolf-like dog sprinting towards him. Kneeling down, he opened his arms as the animal buried his head into his shoulder. "DD!"

The animal wagged its tail as his master ran a hand over his back and behind his ears.

"Stand down DD," Ocelot called out as he approached, a smirk behind his mustache as he watched the animals playful greeting to his master.

With a bark, the dog backed away from Snake, scampering off towards the edge of the deck. Snake watched the animal until Ocelot was standing over him.

"Welcome back Boss. How was the trip?" Ocelot inquired as Snake rose to his feet.

"Didn't get much sleep." Snake spoke softly.

"Because of the storm?”

"Yah... you could say that."

Ocelot looked at Snake in silence, perplexed as to how he had phrased his last sentence. Snake knew Ocelot was trying to figure him out, he was... good with people's minds and figuring out their thoughts. Miller interjected, though, before Ocelot could figure out what had been on the Boss' mind.

"Any news from Africa?”

Ocelot turned towards the crippled man, his expression turning sour as he raised an eyebrow. "The report is the same as the other day, Miller. If Cipher was still out there... we would have heard about it by now."

Following the Death of Skull Face, Cipher (and XOF) continued to operate in Africa. Though Diamond Dogs did not know who had gained control, they continued to fight them. It wasn't until around a year ago that Cipher disappeared from Diamond Dogs radar, following an incident involving the boy Eli on an island off the coast of Africa.

After having captured Sahelanthropus, Eli created his own 'Kingdom of Flies', free from adults. Upon discovering his location, Snake spearheaded an operation to both retrieve Sahelanthropus and extract Eli. The mission should have been simple, but reports indicated that Eli had acquired a sample of the English Strain parasite, and had infected himself with it. Not wanting to risk the possibility of it spreading, Diamond Dogs made plans to carpet bomb the entirety of the island after the mission was complete. On top of the already mounting problems, Cipher had also been actively looking for the Metal Gear and made plans to move on it.

The resulting fight; between Diamond Dogs, XOF, and Sahelanthropus (piloted by Eli) was complete chaos... many dead on both sides. In the end, Diamond Dogs came out on top, XOF forces decimated and Sahelanthropus turned to scrap metal. Eli, having reached maturity, was now a threat as the English strain began to activate within him. Ultimately, with the mission a failure, Snake left the boy to determine his own fate... on an island, that was about to be wiped out of the history books.

The scorched earth could be seen for miles; the English strain finally, and permanently, destroyed. As for XOF and Cipher... they hadn't been heard from since.

Snake noticed the scowl beginning to cross Miller’s face, unsatisfied with the answer. "Cipher is still out there. I want you to double your efforts.”

Ocelot crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one leg. “We’re spread thin as-is. I understand your frustrations Miller, but I’m not deploying anymore resources to that region. It’s the Boss’ decision anyway… and he agrees with me.”

Miller glanced towards Snake with a disgusted look as if he himself was Judas. Snake noticed but chose not to comment. Miller snarled, flashing the whites of his teeth before storming away.

Miller did not give Ocelot a second glance as he limped away, the sound of his cane becoming softer as he put distance between the two men. Ocelot watched him for a moment before turning towards Snake with a worried sigh.

"He hasn't moved on. After all this time."

Snake did not look at the Cowboy as he spoke, keeping his eye on his wounded friend. "He just needs... something to fight for."

Snake turned back to Ocelot again when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

"And you... need to get some rest." Ocelot commented, pointing a finger loosely towards Snake.

"I'll think about it." Snake responded, pushing the hand off his shoulder with the back of his own before walking away.

* * *

Stepping into his cabin brought a sense of relief, the sounds of the outside world fading away as the door closed behind Snake. Pease at last…

His boots were the first to come off, kicked carelessly by the door. Next was his equipment harness, draped over a desk chair like a used towel. Everything else fell on the floor, leaving a trail of clothing that ended at the bathroom.

Snake lost track of time as he stood under the stream of hot water. watching the sand on his body turn into mud as it spiraled down the drain. Steam rose up around him, fogging the glass and blurring his surroundings until nothing was recognizable. Snake was engulfed by it.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, Snake stepped out of the bathroom. He froze when he saw her.

“Snake…”

Quiet sat on his bed, her arms placed firmly on her knees. She was shaking, blood stained tears filling in her eyes. “Snake… I’m sorry…”

“Quiet.” Snake’s voice cracked as he approached, reaching his hand out to her. “Don’t be.”

“You don’t understand…”

Snake lowered his hand cautiously when she did not respond to his gesture. “Understand what?”

“Everything’s about to change…”

Snake’s eye lowered to the floor when he felt the moist sensation of warm steam against his heals, filling the room like a ghostly fog. When he looked back up, Quiet had vanished… but he was not alone. Turning to face the door, the bathroom had become flooded with plumes of smoke that pushed through the doorway like a river delta. A figure stood amongst the mist, blurred and just out of view, but its silhouette was distinct… strangely recognizable. The figures left arm was missing, leaving only a stump. But the feature that drew Snake’s attention were the two horns that pierced the shadowy figures forehead at an angle.

The figure didn’t move, didn’t speak,… didn’t breath. It simply existed, standing behind the smoke that began to slowly dissolve it away.

Snake watched the figure silently until it disappeared from view. Quiet’s words continued to resonate in his mind.

_“Everything’s about to change.”_

Snake opened his eye, dazed and blinded by the light of the setting sun glaring through the windows. Scanning the room, everything appeared normal but he couldn’t shake the sensation that something was watching him. A chill ran down his spine as he peered into the empty bathroom. The only sound he could hear was the slow drip of water out of the faucet.

It was banging on his door that brought Snake back to reality. Grunting as he rolled out of bed, Snake made his way to the door. Pressing a small button on the side made it slide open with a sharp, piercing hiss. Miller stood at the threshold.

"Kaz, what can I do for you?" Snake inquired, blinking as he regained focus.

"The man you brought back the other day. He's talking now... and knows where we can find Shotmaker.”


	3. BLACK SITE

**BLACK SITE**

* * *

 

Snake's iDroid chimed to life, the holographic display opening up as Kaz's voice began playing in his ear.  _"Boss, after months of searching, we finally have a lead on the Soviet commander... Shotmaker. You remember Running Sloth? The man you rescued a few days ago? As you might recall, we put him into contact with a group of Mujahideen Rebel fighters after they contracted us."_

 _"What's the Rebels interest? Killing one commander won't end the war."_ Snake's own voice came over the recording. 

_"True... how the Rebels tell it, this guy is a real sadistic bastard. He oversees all the POWs that come through the region. Though, if the stories about him are true, those unlucky sons of bitches end up as subjects of research rather than prisoners. Apparently, he's opened up his own little black site here in Afghanistan. Until now, we just didn't know where to find it."_

_"What changed?"_

_"Before we lost contact, our intel agent figured out how he moves prisoners throughout the region. He picks POWs up in trucks and transports them to his black site. If we can trail one... it might lead us right to him. Boss, you only have one objective... locate and eliminate Shotmaker, however, there is a very good possibility that you will encounter POWs in the black site; what you do with them, is up to you."_

Snake changed the iDroid's display to show what little notes of intel they had acquired. There was a photograph of Shotmaker, but it was blurry with many indistinguishable facial features aside from his noticeable mohawk. The second photo was a map of the Northern Kubal region. Several of the outposts had been circled with timestamps written to the side. Running Sloth had identified these as the times Shotmaker's trucks made pickups. Satisfied, Snake closed the device and faced his crew. 

Wire sat in his usual position, monitoring radio chatter. Doc sat across from his Boss, looking over a collection of documents. Wrench stood at the equipment rack, ensuring the missions gear was in working order. Lastly, Wasp watched the clouds roll by as he manned Devil Dogs door mounted machine gun. 

The crew remained silent.

* * *

The dark of night had set in when Devil Dog entered the skies over Northern Kubal. The cabin was still, but the crew could feel the tension of the pending mission. Wrench approached Snake, caring a large backpack, helping fasten it to his back before handing him a helmet. Grateful, Snake nodded to her as she stepped away from him. Turning towards the rear of the helicopter, he fastened the helmet; it was a comfortably tight fit. Doc stood to his right, his hand over the ramp release switch. 

"Let's do it." 

Doc nodded and pulled the switch. The cabin lit up a deep red as the siren sounded. The hydraulics hissed as the ramp began to descend, depressurizing the still air of the cabin. It was not long until the ramp had opened, allowing Snake a clear view of the passing countryside below. 

Snake only waited for a second, before taking a deep breath and breaking for the exit. There was no fear, no second thought, no question as he jumped at the ramps edge; adrenaline coursing through his veins. The helmet dulled the sound of the wind as he plummeted towards the earth, though he could feel the pressure of the descent against his body. Only seconds passed by, but time seemed to slow down as he approached the ground. He closed his eye and tensed his muscles as he pulled the release cord.

 

* * *

 

_It had been ten days... ten days since she spoke, ten days since she left him, ten days of depressing loneliness, and ten days of increasingly agonizing pain._

_The sun was highest in the sky when Quiet awoke from her sleep. The ground was uncomfortable, but the sand was warm and soft. Sitting up, Quiet leaned against the trunk of the tree she had stopped at the previous evening. The bark was rough against her back, but she did not mind; grateful for the shade the tree provided._

_She winced in pain when she felt her chest begin to tighten, burning like a hot ember within._

_The attack lasted for a minute before Quiet could compose herself again. The pain in her chest was becoming more frequent, and lasting longer as the days went on. How long until it killed her though... she did not know. Even after ten days, Quiet displayed no symptoms. Her "skin" was a light tan color, and appeared as healthy as ever. The growths that formed on infected patient's chests, had not yet sprouted on her. She did not have an answer, and had no hope in receiving one. Ten days and ten nights had now passed, and she was just waiting for the eternal sleep._

_She had considered killing herself a few times, though she could never bring herself to do it. Perhaps it was still a desire for revenge, though she knew that was not what kept her from blowing her brains out. More likely, it was blind hope that one day she would get to see him again. Blind hope that... maybe they could start over, and she could redeem herself. Yes... this is what stayed her hand, despite her condition. But it was a fools aspiration, and Quiet knew that to be true._

_Her chest clenched with pain again, forcing her to throw her head back against the hard wood. Her bottom lip quivered as tears began streaming down her cheeks. When the pain finally subsided, she continued to cry, her eyes becoming bloodshot._

_A faint moan escaped Quiet's lips as she slumped to her side, laying on the warm sand. Weak and weary, she closed her eyes again. Sleep was the only way to take away the pain. Often times, she would dream of the 'Boss'... how he would find her and take her away. She knew it would never happen, but the idea was something for her to hold on to._

 

* * *

 

The patch of grass was soft where he landed; a cool breeze broke the hill tops and blew the blades in a synchronized dance. Taking his helmet off, Snake listened to the sounds of the Afghan night. Everything was quite, except for the whistle of the wind and the cry of wolves that echoed through the mountains. Snake released the harness to his parachute, letting it fall to the soft ground. 

"Devil Dog, this is 'Boss'." Snake spoke with hushed words. "I am on the ground; activating my IR beacon. Can you confirm visual contact?" 

Taking his hand off his radio, Snake reached to the left side of his belt, pressing the button on a little black box firmly. Only a second passed before Wire's voice cracked in his ear. 

_"Roger that 'Boss', locked on your position."_

Looking around, Snake thought about his next move. Not far from him, he noticed a blue flower standing erect and alone amongst the ocean of green grass. It was not the flower, though, that had caught his attention. Standing atop the blue petals, a small butterfly gathered what nectar the flower could provide. Its wings were pale and void of color, unlike the beautiful flower it had landed on. As he examined it, Snake wondered what had brought it to this lone flower. His thought cut short, however, by the whistle of a breeze rushing through the valley. The grass, thin enough to withstand the push of air, parted ways as it blew through. But the flower’s stem was tall and brittle, and could not move aside. Snake watched as it broke and collapsed to the ground. The butterfly made no attempt to flee, one of its wings having revealed itself to be torn and broken. The flower and the butterfly disappeared into the waves of grass, leaving Snake alone once again. Wolves continued to howl in the distance.

 

* * *

 

_A small cave provided just enough cover from the sandstorm that raged outside. Quiet sat in silence, listening to the wind and sand that mimicked the sound of static noise. Her mind wondered between subjects, though it always ended on the same question._

_When am I going to die?_

_It had now been five weeks since she left him, and her condition only continued to worsen. Her skin no longer glowed with color, but had turned a sickly grey. Her whole body felt dry, and cracks had formed on her pale skin. The pain in her chest never let up, making it difficult to stand on occasions. Her eyes were swollen and red, and though she had no more tears to cry, her cheeks had become stained with them._

_Quiet turned her attention to the sandstorm that wreathed the outside world. Memories of guilt began to cloud her mind. Why did she run away? Why did she not undergo the Wolbachia treatment? Why did she put the man she loved..._

_Love!?_

_Dazed and confused, Quiet sat and thought about the words that had just crossed her mind. Despite everything they had been through, everything she had done... she had fallen for him. She lowered her eyes to the rocky ground; if only she had any tears left._

* * *

_The Aabe Shifap Ruins seemed a decent enough place to set up camp, if a little ironic. Five months had now passed since she last saw him, and Quiet did not know how much longer she could go on. The cracks in her skin had deepened and began to open, leaking blood onto her pale body. The pain in her chest no longer bothered her, though it prevented her from doing much activity. Not that it mattered, spending her days laying out in the sun; taking in what nutrients her body would allow before the dead of night set in. Perhaps this is what drew her back to the ruins._

_Aabe Shifap was a paradise amongst the bleak Afghan wilderness. The ruins provided enough cover so that she would not be seen by prying eyes, and the natural springs offered a source of hydration in the dry heat. Despite all this, Quiet found it ironic that the place Snake had shown her mercy, would also be the place of her death._

 

* * *

 

Wakh Sind Barracks was the only source of light that pierced the night sky. Careful to avoid the spotlights surrounding the outpost, Snake perched himself on the opposite cliffside. A road ran between him and the outpost, peppered with checkpoints and gun encampments. The outpost itself was built into the cliffside, with metal walls holding the rocks into place while acting as protective barriers. Scanning the cliffside, Snake searched for a place of entry. With luck, he noticed a crack that traveled up the otherwise unscalable rocks. Reaching its summit would allow him the opportunity to sneak around the rear of the base. Having made his decision, Snake put his scope away. 

The hunter was a ghost as he moved, avoiding loose rocks and anything that could produce the smallest of sounds. The air was so still, even the squeak of his sneaking suit rang loudly in his ears. A drainage tunnel provided an opportunity to cross the roadway without the risk of being caught in the spotlights, however, rain had made the mud soft and unpleasant. Snake could feel it plaster to his face as he crawled through. Coming out on the other end, the hunter wasted no time cleaning off, but let the mud become part of him as he continued towards the cliff. 

Snake's bionic arm had always proven useful when climbing the cliffs of Afghanistan. The lack of pain he felt from it allowed him to wedge it between rocks and other objects that would otherwise cause damage to flesh and bone. The difficult task was not scaling the cliff, but ensuring that his climb did not disturb the already cracked surface. Upon reaching the top, the advantage the cliff provided was exactly what Snake had hoped for. 

Following the rocky path around the base, Snake positioned himself in a spot that overlooked the complex. He was close to a flat area, appearing to have been converted into a landing pad for helicopters. Just next to that was a construction site, the skeleton of a building standing silently.

Beyond the landing pad and construction site where the barracks. Soviet soldiers stood guard around the camp, unaware of Snakes presence. They lit cigarettes and chatted amongst themselves. In the center of the camp, a fire burned like a bright beacon.

"Wire, I'm opening up the microphone channel. Give me simultaneous translation." Snake pulled out his scope, waiting for a response.

_"Copy that 'Boss'; setting up the channel now."_

Pointing the microphone in the direction of the enemy camp, Snake searched for conversations that could provide useful intel regarding his target. The translated voice spoke to him through his earpiece, though if a little delayed. 

_"I heard the Rebels retook Da Smasei Laman."_

_“No shit! Haven't they been trying that for weeks."_

_"Yah, apparently it holds some importance to them... hell if I know."_

_"Well I'm sure we'll take it back in do time.”_

The microphone moved between groups.

_"That uh... mohawk'd man coming tonight?"_

_"Yah... picking up that guy trying to plant explosives the other day."_

_"Shit man, I almost feel bad for him, you know? After all the stories."_

_"What stories?"_

_"People talk about what goes on in that prison camp, if you can even call that. You know... I heard he even stitched up the mouth of one of the prisoners... just to keep 'em from screaming."_

_"Ha... wow. That's brutal. Guess that's what they get for being on the wrong side."_

Snake pulled the scope away from his eye, thinking about the words that had just been translated into his ear. Brushing it off, he returned his attention to the outpost. 

Snake scanned the area with his scope. Minutes passed, but he eventually found what he was searching for. 

_"... they will be arriving shortly. All you have to do is load the prisoner up in the back and ride with him to the destination. Is that clear?"_

_"Understood Captain!”_

The air grew heavy with moisture as clouds began to darken the night sky, blocking out the moon's light. Snake pulled his scope away from his eye, looking towards the clouds, watching flashes of light illuminate the sky. Despite the anticipation, rain did not come.

 

* * *

 

_The sun was beginning to disappear behind the mountain tops when Quiet woke from her nap. Despite the uncomfortable tightness in her body, she could feel the energy in her muscles; having spent a majority of the day laying out in the sun. The sand and dry heat, though, had left her feeling dry. Rolling onto her side, she pushed herself up from the ground. A makeshift crutch supported her as she limped her way to one of the springs._

_The heat of the day had warmed the water; it felt soothing on her blistered feet regardless. Quiet had gotten rid of her boots some months ago, when the cracks on her skin began opening. The pain from wearing them made it impossible to stand. She had also rid herself of her equipment harness, not that it caused her trouble, but it was extra weight that she no longer needed._

_Careful not to move too quickly, Quiet sat down in the stagnant water, setting her crutch to the side. A sense of relief washed over her as the water began to hydrate her legs, soothing her rough skin. Cupping her hands together, Quiet took a scoop of water and poured it on her chest. A sigh of relief escape her lips as the warm water ran down her pale body. Dipping her hands again, she repeated the action. The sun was now completely behind the mountains._

_Quiet sat alone in the dark silence, the water beginning to cool her skin as the temperature dropped. It was getting late, and she needed..._

_Quiet screamed, terrified when the claw like fingers latched onto her shoulder. She only managed a quick glance at her attacker before a black sack was pulled over her head, shrouding her senses in darkness. Mustering what little energy she could, Quiet attempted to free herself but a solid object cracked itself against her face, knocking her unconscious._

_When she regained consciousness, Quiet found herself in a room, no larger than a tool shed. It was cruddy made, with improperly set wooden planks that allowed for streams of light to seep through. She was tied to a chair in the center of the room. Her whole body throbbed with pain, particularly her head. She could feel the large bruise that had formed on her cheek after being hit, though she was unsure as to when that occurred or how long she had been out. The burning sting in her chest returned, stronger than before. Unable to move from her position, Quiets only choice was to ride it out; grunting softly and gritting her teeth. When the wave passed, she opened her eyes and looked towards the floor. Drops of blood had stained the wood around her. She let out a whimper at the sight of her own body. Her skin was pale and gray, but stained red with the blood that had leaked from the cracks that scarred her._

_Resting her head back, Quiet closed her eyes and for the first time in months... prayed for death._

_Sitting alone, she had no sense of time. Had it been hours, days, weeks? Occasionally, she could hear voices just beyond the walls. The words were faint and distant, but sounded Russian. She had to wonder, though, if they knew she carried the English strain._

_Over time, she could sense her body growing weaker. The room she was in only allowed for the faintest cracks of light to enter, and she received no water. Even the act of breathing became more difficult as her skin became dry and brittle. The feeling of suffocation was something Quiet hated passionately, inducing panic when she could do little to relieve it. It reminded her of Cyprus, the night her human life was taken away. The fire that destroyed her body was agonizing of course, but she would never be able to describe the anguish she felt as her organs shut down one by one, draining her of life._

 

* * *

 

The wait was not long until beams of light appeared around the mountain ridge. Snake watched as two jeeps followed the road through the valley, a truck driving between. The three vehicles hastily drove through the outposts forward checkpoints and up toward the barracks, stopping before entering the camp. Two men jumped out of the truck and made their way towards the outposts commander. Snake pulled up his scope and pointed it in their direction. 

 _"Captain."_ The two soldiers gave a quick salute.

 _"Follow me to the detention area."_ The commander responded, straight to business. 

Snake followed the group with his scope until they were no longer visible, disappearing into the building under construction. Looking back towards the vehicles, the hunter watched as soldiers began pulling out cigarets and walking about. Their guard was down, opening up an opportunity.

Few guards had been placed near the rear of the outpost, giving Snake room to move freely without concern. It was not until he had passed the landing pad that enemy movement became more troublesome. Careful to avoid detection, the hunter hugged the rocks as he moved towards the camps metal gate. 

The truck stood abandoned just beyond the fence. Concealing himself behind the wall, Snake waited until there were no eyes on it, moving towards it when the opportunity presented itself. Careful not to cause any noise, Snake crawled underneath, facing the bottom of the truck. Using a hook attached to his sneaking suit, he tethered himself the bottom. Finding a place to set his feet and hands, Snake pulled himself against the truck, becoming invisible to those that did not look for him. 

Minutes passed before Snake felt the truck begin to shift with the weight of men getting on board. Two climbed into the cabin, while three loaded up in the bed; one of the men suspected to be the prisoner. Snake noticed a pair of boots standing not far from his face. He kept his eye on them as the truck began to reverse, making its way out of the outpost. 

The road was rough and rocky, requiring all of his strength to keep himself underneath the truck. Snake closed his eye for a majority of the trip, protecting himself from the mud and rocks being kicked up off the damp ground. 

As the trip progressed, the convoy would stop at other outposts and checkpoints, but never for more than a few minutes. Snake would watch as more prisoners were loaded into the bed with each stop. Eventually, the convoy turned off the main road, following a dirt path that became narrower as it traveled into the mountains. The sound of thunder cracked overhead as the clouds opened up, rain beginning to soak the ground. 

* * *

Snake felt his weight shift as the truck came to an abrupt stop. Though he could not see what lay before, the sound of grinding gears and the creak of metal echoed through the canyon. When the truck pressed forward again, the rain disappeared, its rhythmic noise beginning to grow distant. Beneath him, Snake noticed the muddy path had abruptly ended, turning into smooth steel. 

Remaining motionless when the truck came to a stop, the stowaway waited for the soldiers and their prisoners to disembark before moving. After crawling out from underneath the truck, and finding a hiding place behind a pair of crates, Snake studded his new surroundings. 

The convoy had entered a steel bunker, not unlike a missile silo. The metal walls curved upward and back to the floor again, like half of a circle. Along them ran a maze of pipes, of varying sizes. They vibrated violently as steam pumped its way through the complex, like lab rats scurrying for escape. Occasionally, the steam would find a crack in the system, breaking free with a loud hiss. Opposite where he had found cover was a large, metal door. The soldiers had led the prisoners through it moments before. 

With the coast clear, Snake put a finger to his radio. "Devil Dog, this is 'Boss'. How copy?”

Static was the only response he received.

"Devil Dog, this is 'Boss'. How copy?!" 

No response came as Snake considered his options. 

Unholstering his AM D114, Snake checked over the weapon in the usual fashion. As always, it was well maintained, though mud had darkened its silver body from the trip. Using his finger, Snake ensured no mud had clogged any of the moving parts before attaching a silencer to the end of his weapon. 

The door was not locked, creaking as it swung on its hinges. The hallway that stretched out before him was dark and dimly lit, with shadows that embraced the walls and hung on the air like a thick fog. A breath traveled down the passageway; the hollow whistle of wind. Holding his weapon to his chest, Snake crossed the threshold, stepping into the dark. The weight of the door closed it behind him. His ears burned with anticipation, the wind and his steps being the only sound available. 

At the end of the hallway was another door. Through it was another passageway, similar in design and aesthetic, but was noticeably wider. Snake closed the door behind him, like a child sneaking into his parents room while they slept. The hallway was lined with a row of doors, on both sides. Solid steel and tall enough to reach the ceiling. Each on contained a small rectangular slit. Watching his back, Snake stepped towards the nearest one and peered inside. His eye flinched. 

Inside, the cell was a concrete box, large enough to hold only one person. There was no light, and Snake's pupil grew larger as a figure came into view. He was naked, completely, hung up in such a way that his arms were raised above his head, with metal chains tethering him to the ceiling. His skin was void of color and frail, large lacerations marking most of his body. He was still alive though, his chest heaving with each breath. His chest... it was covered in small puss filled bubbles. Snake's breath grew heavy, recognizing the early signs of the Vocal Cord parasite. The stench of his feces collecting on the floor forced Snake to finally look away. 

Snake grunted, raising his weapon to the door. His finger ached to pull the trigger, but he did not fire; slowly backing away until he could peek into another. Inside, it was the same as the other. A man, strung up, with growths on his chest.

Snake stumbled, backing away from the steel door. Snapping his weapon forward, he gazed down the hallway. His eye wavered as he followed the row of doors before they disappeared into the shadows. There was burning sensation in his left arm; the phantom pain. After two years the Vocal Cord parasite was still a threat, and in someone else's hands.

 

* * *

 

_The sun on her skin was a blessing enough to be happy about. It was the first time she had been brought out since being held captive, the warm rays of light providing nutrients she had been denied for days. Of course it did little to improve her dismal situation._

_Looking around, Quiet took in her surroundings. The sand-covered hills towered around the outpost, split by a dirt road that ran through the middle. The camp itself was made up of a collection of cabins and wooden barrack, as well as similar shacks identical to the one she had been held in. She was standing amongst a group of other prisoners, all formed in a line. Their captors walked around the camp, speaking Russian to each other while keeping watchful eyes on their prisoners. The men on either side of Quiet appeared just as weak and broken as she. They did not physically appear as broken as she did, considering her "condition", but the lifeless gaze in their eyes told her they had not seen the light of day for some time._

_The group stood still in the sun for what seemed like hours, the soldiers interacting little with them. Eventually a pair of vehicles rounded the stone hills, glistening in the sun. Sand and dust kicked up behind them as they sped down the road, coming to an abrupt halt near the center of the camp._

_The group of captives watched as additional soldiers disembarked from the vehicles. One man was different though, catching Quiets attention. His attire was similar to the others, but his mohawk set him apart. He spoke to no one as he exited the vehicle, focusing his attention on the prisoners as he made his way towards them._

_Quiet's eyes remained fixated on the man as the distance between them decreased. He stopped just short of the group, analyzing the lifeless faces before him until his gaze met Quiet's. He no longer inspected the others, but instead moved so that he was directly in front of her. He never took his eyes from her's as a smile began to cross his face._

_The man with the mohawk turned and barked a few orders in Russian towards his men before bringing his attention back to Quiet. "It's nice to finally meet you... Annabelle. My employers will be happy to know your still alive…”_

 

* * *

 

The sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway. Taking cover in the shadows, Snake watched as a door swung open at the other end of the corridor. The first figure to appear was a Soviet soldier, who turned and spoke a few words in Russian. The second to stumble through the door was a prisoner. The figure wore a straight jacket, his arms crossing in front of his chest. A bag had been pulled over the prisoners head, preventing Snake from seeing his face. Though the figure wore pants, shoes were not present, giving Snake the only view of the prisoners pale, cracked skin. Three more guards appeared from the doorway following suit. The group had made it halfway down the hallway, passing each door with little more than a quick glance, before the prisoner collapsed. Unamused the guards started shouting in Russian, one kicked the prisoner in the stomach; who grunted in pain, but it was muffled behind the sack. Snake watched as one of the soldiers grabbed the prisoner by the arm and lifted him to his feet. Another used the butt of his weapon to force him forward. Holding his breath, Snake watched as the group disappeared into the hallway he, himself, had first come from. 

Snake let a minute pass before stepping from the shadows. The corridor was silent again as he slowly made his way towards the door the soldiers had emerged from. It was much heavier than the last, with rusty hinges that pierced the still air. Snake held his breath as the sound echoed through the halls, but the stillness remained undisturbed. 

The hallway was better lit than the other two and was not a singular passage, splitting into two after a short distance. Readying his weapon, Snake crept down the passage, his shadow casting ghostly figures against walls. 

A scream brought Snake to his knee, raising his weapon to his eye. The cry only echoed for a second, but its sound still rang in his ear. It was not a cry for help, nor fear... the tune of it was of pure agony, raw pain. His finger twitching on the trigger, Snake rose to his feet and pressed on. 

The scream had come from the hallway to his right, though silence had returned to the air. Checking to his left, Snake looked down the opposite hallway. It was the same, silent and motionless. Suddenly, the high-pitched rattle of a buzzsaw broke the stillness, bringing his attention back to the other passageway. The distant noise sounded like a snarl that became muffled, the blade pushed into something rubbery. Without thinking, Snake felt his feet begin to carry him forward, taking him closer to the noise. 

The room was bright, a stark contrast to the rest of the complex. Large fluorescents produced powerful beams of light that reflected off the steel walls, giving the room an almost white appearance. It was unorganized, medical and surgical equipment scattered about. Along one wall was a row of gurneys, bodies strapped to them. They had been mutilated, their chest cavities torn open. In the center of the room, two men stood over a similar figure. Blood drained from a laceration stretching across his chest. The blood splattered buzzsaw lay on a table next to them. 

Taking cover behind a curtain when entering the room, Snake watched the men as they worked. Both had their backs to him, but Shotmaker's mohawk was recognizable. The two spoke short sentences in Russian before the man next to Shotmaker pushed his hands into the dead man's chest cavity. The sound of cracking bones filled the room as the man slowly pulled the body open. Shotmaker crossed his arms, watching the other work. 

Snake continued to watch in silence, tightening his grip on his weapon. The two men worked quickly, exchanging few words. After opening the body, the man next to Shotmaker began the grizzly operation. Though his vision was obscured by their backs, Snake could see the man reaching into the cavity well-enough. Using a knife, organs began to be removed, tossed aside with little care. Snake raised his eyebrow. What were they searching for? 

The operation only lasted a few minutes before the man paused, speaking Russian to Shotmaker. Relaxing his arms, the commander leaned over the mutilated corpse, looking into its chest. The words he said after had the resonance of excitement, though Snake could not focus on them; the cock of a weapon's hammer clicking behind him, close to his head…


	4. DEMON TYUR'MY

**DEMON TYUR'MY**

* * *

 

Snake had been so focused on the experiment in the center of the room that he did not notice the Soviet soldier approach him from behind, realizing his mistake when the click of a weapons hammer sounded close to his head. Turning, he stared down the barrel of the gun aimed directly at him before raising his eye to the soldier. His face was baby smooth, with skin paler than freshly laid snow. His eyes wavered in his head; terrified. He could have been no more than 20.

“Vot. On zedes'!” The boy cried out, motioning Snake out of his cover with a slight wave of his weapon.

Shotmaker turned on a swivel at the unexpected, and surprising interruption. A smile began to form across the mohawk’ed mans face, devious and sharp. His deep voice broke the silence. "Ah... the legendary 'Big Boss'." His English was well spoken, though heavily accented. "I knew it was only a matter of time." 

Snake grunted, keeping his silence. His eye darted around the room. Recognizing he would not receive an answer, Shotmaker walked within arms reach, holding out his hand. "That's okay, we can speak later. Can I at least shake your hand?" 

Snake tightened his grip on his pistol, staring at the open hand in offerance to him.

“Day mne eto!” The boy behind Snake grabbed his weapon, forcing it out of his hand.

Shotmaker flashed his eyebrows, stretching his hand closer. ”It’s not every day you get to meet a legend?" There was a mocking tone in his voice. 

Cautiously, Snake lifted his hand up to his enemy. Shotmaker raised an eyebrow as he waited, studying Snake like a hawk until the moment their hands met. 

A smile crossed Shotmaker's face as the two men's hands clasped together, each fighting for dominance and the firmest grip. Snake maintained his stone composure, not removing his eye from the man in front of him. 

Their hands never shook, but remained connected, hovering motionless between the two as they analyzed each other; waiting to see who would make the first move. Snake's vision suddenly became blurry, accompanied with a light stinging sensation in his neck; similar to that of a bee sting. Shotmaker released his opponent’s hand as he began stumbling backward, reaching for anything that could be used as support. 

Snake blinked rapidly, attempting to clear the fog that was clouding his vision. Despite his physical prowess, his strength began to weaken. He collapsed to the floor, slipping out of consciousness. Shotmaker stood over him, the corners of his mouth beginning to curl upwards. 

"Welcome to hell, 'Big Boss'. You can call me... the warden.”

* * *

Snake awoke to the light patter of water against a stone surface. It wasn’t quick or loud, but slow; a methodical drip that was no louder than an acorn falling in a vast forest. His eyelid was heavy, but he mustered enough energy to open it, if only slightly. The room was dark, but the thin slit in the door allowed for the faintest ray of light to shine through. He recognized the room instantly; the stone walls closing in around him.

Snake tried to move, though his muscles would not respond. His right arm was chained to the ceiling, while his left hung limply by his side; his prosthesis removed. The handcuff had already sawed through his skin and was gnawing away at his muscle, but Snake could not find enough energy to stand. He was nothing more than dead weight, grunting and gritting his teeth. It was dark - to dark to see clearly - but the sting of fresh bruises spotted across his body was unmistakable. There was a dry, metallic taste of blood on his lips as well. 

There was another pain. It started off insignificant, a little twitch in his fingers. But as the darkness closed around him it grew, like a serpent slithering up his arm, wrapping around him constricting the flow of blood. The phantom pain. 

"Is this where you imagined our life ending up." 

The voice startled Snake, resonating from behind him. Upon turning his head, however, his eye only rested on a damp, stone wall. Blinking in disbelief, he wondered if it had been imagined... but he could not shake the feeling that someone was here with him. 

The air remained still and silent; undisturbed.

* * *

 The water was ice cold, shaking Snake awake when it was thrown against him. He coughed violently, forcing water out of his lungs as he regained his breath. As his vision adjusted, Snake studied his new surroundings. The room was the same design as the other; the lab Snake had been discovered in. Several gurneys sat in the corner, bodies laid out on top. Along one of the walls was a row of doors, in appearance of cast iron ovens - furnaces. The room was a crematory. The smell of rotting flesh mixing with the aroma of charred bone was intoxicating. Snake twitched his nose as the poison filled his lungs.

"Can we have that conversation now?”

Shotmaker was standing at the opposite side of the room, his back turned to Snake. Snake could not see his face, but he noticed the items in his hand; a syringe, and a unmarked bottle with clear liquid inside it. He was filling it; not the bottle, but the syringe. "So.. can we have that conversation now?” Shotmaker turned towards Snake, holding the syringe at eye level to his face. 

"Depends." Snake kept his response short, his voice harsh and gravely. 

Shotmaker crossed the room, moving in close; kneeling so that he was eye level with Snake. Snake sat in a chair in the center of the room, though he was unrestrained. The lights in the room bounced off the silver gloss of the needle, causing it to glint as it grew close. 

"Why are you here?" Shotmaker's voice hissed quietly, furrowing his brow as he stared down Snake. 

Snake remained silent, raising his chin to the man, waiting to see what he would do next. Shotmaker's eyes shifted towards the needle as he stood, hovering over Snake. "Please don't make me use this. It's very... unpleasant." 

Shotmaker circled around the chair, stopping when he was behind it. Snake felt a hand rest on his shoulder but did not turn his gaze. 

"Now, tell me... why are you here?" Snake could feel Shotmaker's breath on his neck but continued to uphold his composure, letting the silence between the two men linger. Shotmaker gripped Snake’s shoulder tightly, pulling him back against the chair. “Thats alright… to kill me, right? Well that might be difficult… considering your current situation.”

Snake gritted his teeth as the needle pierced his shoulder, his muscles tensing as a searing pain shot through them. Shotmaker released his grip, letting Snake slump forward as he began to circle back around him. “Very unpleasant… isn’t it.”

Snake grunted loudly, clenching his fist in an attempt to subdue the shaking in his hand. Hissing through his teeth at the growing agony, he raised his eye to Shotmaker. His vision was blurry and spotted.

“How does it feel ‘Big Boss’? To have all the control taken away? But don't worry… I’m not gonna kill you.” Shotmaker placed a hand on Snakes shoulder again, leaning in close to his ear, speaking softly. “To the right person, you’re more valuable alive.”

“Aggg!!” Snake lunged forward again, gipping the chair to keep himself from falling over.

Shotmaker smirked, sitting in a chair across from Snake, waiting for his convulsions to subside until he was able to compose himself.

Breathing heavily, Snake looked up towards shotmaker, speaking softly between gasps. “I’m not afraid of you…”

Shotmaker sat forward in his chair, supporting his chin with his thumb. Snake did not meet his gaze, moving his eye back to the ground. “What?… I didn’t catch that, you’re gonna have to speak up.”

Snake didn’t respond at first, moving his gaze around the room uncomfortably before sitting up in the chair, looking Shotmaker in the eyes with a cold stare that was as sharp as a knife. “Not today, not tomorrow,… but I’m gonna kill you.”

“Hmm…” A coy smile crossed Shotmakers lips as he leaned back in his chair. Snake waited for his response, but the silence between the two began to feel like an eternity. Finally, Shotmaker nodded his head, chuckling to himself. “Jesus…”

The room fell silent once more.

“Language is an amazing thing… isn’t it.” Shotmaker spoke first, relaxing in his chair. Snake did not do the same, maintaining his composure as he kept his gaze on the man. “You call me Shotmaker. In my country, I am _Demon Tyur’my._ To these people, I am _Demoon van die Gevangens._ So many dialects and tongues. A simple name can be translated differently for every language." 

Snake raised his eyebrow at the conversations change in tone. Shotmaker noticed his curiosity, continuing…

“You think of me as Skull Face, don't you? Thats alright. But Skull Face was a self-centered madman, hell-bent on revenge. His hatred for the English language consumed him, destroyed him. He didn't understand that... you can't just rid the world of a single dialect; the very fabric of humanity... language, would have crumbled and turned to ash. That is why Cipher... the original Cipher, stopped the Vocal Cord experiments.”

“How do you know Skull Face?” Snake broke his silence, slowly relaxing in his chair.

“Ahh, now we’re starting to get somewhere. I knew we could be friends!” Shotmaker pointed jokingly towards Snake, a happy smile crossing his face. “Growing up in Russia, I had always been fascinated with American culture. As you can probably guess, I was never able to express it; the Soviets and the United States were engaged in a Cold War after all. Eventually though, I managed to get away from Russia to study in America. There, I learned your language, your culture and customs, and your politics. It was also there that I met a man by the name of David Oh, and... Skull Face. I respected David greatly, and it pained me to learn that Skull Face stabbed him in the back to take control of Cipher. Had the Soviets not invited Afghanistan, and me returning to serve, I might have gone after Skull Face myself, but he vanished... until two years ago.” The tone in his voice had grown sour on the last note.

Snake grunted, wiping the sweat from his brow with the palm of his shaky hand. His breathing was labored, but the conversation distracted him from the lingering pain. “You sound disappointed.”

“No, but I would have liked the opportunity…” Shotmaker looked towards Snake, a smile returning to his lips. Standing up from his seat, with outstretched arms, he boasted excitedly, “It doesn't matter now. Now, I am in control! And I well set things right!”

Snake remained unfazed by Shotmakers excited outburst. “What are you setting right?”

Shotmaker perched his lips, whistling lightly as he leaned down, his face coming close to Snake’s. “I’ll show you.”

Behind Shotmaker, several guards stormed through the metal door, grabbing Snake forcefully by the arms. Snake did not resist as he was dragged from his chair and across the cold floor. Before entering the dark hallway, he noticed Shotmaker following not far behind.

* * *

Snake stared at the floor, watching the shadows fade in and out beneath him whenever they passed a dimly lit light. Echoing around him, he could hear the somber moans of broken men, bleeding through the halls like a thick mist. Ahead of him, Snake noticed a bright light at the end of the corridor. He watched it grow closer and more intense until he was unwillingly enveloped by it.

Snake examined the room as his vision came into focus, adjusting to the light that flooded the room in stark contrast to the previous. He recognized the red stain that painted the floor in the center of the room. “That man, the one you cut open, what were you looking for?”

“His parasite.”

“Imposible.”

Shotmaker sneered, motioning to his men.

Snake watched intently as several soldiers rolled a gurney into the room. A man was strapped to it, moaning as he vainly attempted to break free. Shotmaker placed his hand over the mans mouth, muffling his cries. “Shhh… it will all be over soon.”

Snake didn’t flinch as Shotmaker plunged a knife into the mans sternum, gutting him open like a freshly caught fish. Fresh blood spilled onto the already stained floor. The crack of bone echoed on the walls. Shotmaker smiled when he noticed Snake watching him.

“This doesn’t bother you? Of course, how could it, you’re no cleaner than I.” Shotmaker pointed the blood covered knife towards Snake, splattering the room with its red paint. Snake felt the warm drops pepper his cheek, but he made no effort to wipe them away.

The process continued until Shotmaker dropped the knife to the floor, letting it splash in the pool of blood. From the body, he removed the specimen, placing it into a jar containing a milky substance before holding it up to Snake. “The vocal cord parasite, in it’s purest form.”

Try as hard as he may, Snake could not deny the existence of what was being held before him. It only served as a confirmation to his suspensions when he had first arrived, as he thought back to the cells and the prisoners held within. “Everyone you hold here…”

Shotmaker chuckled, handing the jar to one of the guards who quickly left the room. “All infected. All potential donors.”

“But why cut it out of them?” Snake looked around the room; the bodies he had seen before had been removed, but he could still picture them in his mind. Torn into like prey at the mercy of a hungry lion.

“It’s the only way to preserve the specimen. The parasite was designed to kill its host, and once it has nothing to feed on, it dies as well.”

The room fell silent. Outside, down the hallway, Snake could hear the moans. They were distant. Ghostly. They vanished as the door closed. Snake looked back towards Shotmaker, strength returning to him as he stared him down with a ferocity that had not been present before. “You said you’re making things right. How?”

Shotmaker seemed pleased by the question, not breaking eye contact as he spoke. “The vocal cord parasite rightfully belongs to David Oh. I”m returning it to him.”

Snake grunted at the name. He was both friend and enemy, but Snake no longer knew what side to identify. They hadn’t spoken in years. "What does Zero want with the vocal cord parasite?" Snake's attention returned to Shotmaker. 

"Can't say." Shotmaker approached Snake, wiping the blood from his hands with a towel. "I haven't spoken to him in years. Everything we do now is through a contact back in the States." 

"Cipher." Snake let the name hiss through his teeth. 

"Cipher is no more. You destroyed them, remember." 

"But the ideology lives on... as long as Zero is still alive." 

"True." 

Flexing his returning muscles, Snake stood up from his seat. The guards in the room jumped at the sudden movement, raising their weapons. Shotmaker, however, did not appear shocked, holding his hand in the air to calm his men. Snake did not respond to the gesture, walking up to the corpse on the table. Looking over the body, the victim presented all of the early signs of the Vocal Cord Parasite.

Shotmaker noticed Snakes interest, breaking the silence. “The subjects are brought here before the parasite begins to copulate. Many of them, in fact, don't even speak the language of the parasite that resides within them. We induce copulation on site… and remove the specimen when it reaches maturity.”

“How many? How many languages?”

“I’ve got them all. Every parasite that the old Dine created for Skull Face.”

Snake lowered his head in thought, “Not all of them.”

A smile curled upwards on Shotmakers lips, speaking in a tone that could only be described as prideful. “After years of searching, I found the last… English.”

Snake snapped his head towards Shotmaker with a suddenness that alerted the guards again, though he was to focused on the man that had spoken to him to notice. “English… who carried it? Is it still here?”

Shotmaker opened his mouth, but did not speak, noticing the strain the anticipation was putting on Snake. “She…”

A deafening crack broke the air. The door exploded inwards, sending fragments of rock and dust in all directions. The two closest guards were caught in the explosion, thrown violently to the ground. Snake, stunned just the same as everyone else, watched the confusion play out as if it was in slow-motion; noticing every detail. 

The first to emerge from the smoke was Ocelot. He entered the room with such elegance, almost gliding through the door. His two signature revolvers spun on his fingers as he raised them with outstretched arms. Without setting eyes on his targets, his hands reached their apex, catching each revolver after a final spin. The Soviet soldiers had no time to react as two shots fired simultaneously, sending two limp bodies to the ground. He twirled his weapons again as he brought his aim to the front, dropping two more soldiers just as fast as the others. 

The dust had not yet cleared when Snake's sense of time returned to him. Six dead Soviets lay on the ground, their spots having been replaced by Diamond Dog soldiers. Ocelot stood over Shotmaker, who had collapsed to the ground during the initial blast. Ocelot cocked his head and smiled. "Shotmaker... say hi to Stalin for me." His finger began to apply pressure on the trigger. 

“Don't!" 

The two men looked towards Snake; stunned.

"Boss?" Ocelots question was no surprise to Snake, he had heard it many times before from Miller.

Snake breathed heavily, catching his breath before speaking. "We take him alive." The tone in his voice was no longer weak and labored, but deep and commanding. 

"The contract is to take him out." Ocelot questioned again, tightening his grip on his weapon.

With fire in his eye, Snake looked towards his enemy.

"The contract has changed.”

 

* * *

 

Snake sat in the infirmary on the medical platform, a doctor poking and prodding him with needles and other equipment he did not care to look at. These check-ups generally did not bother Snake, though his skin was as tough as leather causing the doctor to be less gentle than he would with most other patients. Miller and Ocelot stood close by, watching their Boss get his wounds checked on. 

"How'd you find me?" Snake finally spoke to them. 

"Devil Dog managed to track you into the cave system, though we lost contact when you went under." Miller shifted his weight on his cane. "After we didn't hear from you for about a day, we decided to organize a search and rescue." 

"What about the others?" Snake looked towards the doctor when the prick of a needle surprised him. He did not stop his work though. 

"The other prisoners?" Ocelot chimed in, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Unfortunately, it would seem your report is correct; they all appear to be infected with the vocal cord parasite." 

"Which strain?" Snake looked back to the two men.

"Code Talker has identified all of them... all of them except English." 

"The English strain is extinct." Miller snapped his head towards Ocelot, patronizing the cowboy. "It died off with that Cipher bitch." 

Snake could sense the spike in his blood pressure, clenching his fist at what Miller had stated. Had Ocelot not continued the conversation, he may have spoke up. 

"Regardless of that fact, we moved the infected to the quarantine platform, though... I don't think there is much we can do for them at this point." 

"Maybe, maybe not... Code Talker has taken a particular interest in them." Miller looked back towards Snake. "I think he may be looking into an actual cure." 

"Keep me posted on what he finds." Snake spoke softly, having released the tension from earlier. "I'd be very much interested to know if he comes up with anything." 

"I'm all done here." The doctor spoke up as he stepped away from Snake.

Heaving himself off the table, Snake grabbed his jacket and began limping towards the door. 

"Your in no condition to go back out into the field." Miller sounded like a parent, facing Snake. 

Snake kept his back to the two men as he lowered his head, closing his eye. He remained silent for a moment. He continued without saying a word, leaving Miller and Ocelot to themselves. 

 


	5. BEFORE THE STORM

**BEFORE THE STORM**

* * *

 

Mother Base had always been its own independent organization, governed by a small few who acted of their own free will. While this remained true, as the years passed it had become much more comparable to a city- state; its own nation. Mother Base was an interconnected web of everything that built a country. It had government, industry, agriculture, innovation, and a population large enough to sustain itself within the world's economy. But this was also its fatal flaw. Mother Base operated within the war economy, something that many countries looked down upon; though most did nothing about it because this was the nature of the war economy: governments hated the idea of independent military organizations, yet asked for them when times got tough. 

Much of these developments had become possible through the addition of the Refugee Platform. Civilian housing provided the labor force that distinguished Diamond Dogs from other PF operations, who operated simply as mercenary groups. As families and refugees began to move in, inroads to a diversified economy were opened. Jobs became available, many that Diamond Dogs did not previously had; such as scientists, engineers, doctors, teachers, and many more that built up the labor force. Despite all this, Mothers Base remained a predominant military force. Diamond Dog forces oversaw and supervised all of the comings and goings of Mother Base... to the refugees, they lived within a military state. 

Unlike the average PF organization, Diamond Dogs had become a military dictatorship; and the world was beginning to notice…

 

* * *

 

The tents that lined the Refugee Platform fluttered in the wind that broke over the Seychelles, swaying together in a synchronized dance. The breeze was cool and carried the ocean mist through the air, dropping the temperature to a brisk 22 degree Celsius. Though the sun was rising over the horizon, only thin rays of light penetrated the grey clouds that engulfed the sky. A dark wall of rain could been seen out on the horizon, foreshadowing the monsoon that would eventually devour Mother Base. 

Kyle stood on the edge of the platform, watching the thrashing of the waves in the distance. He was a young man of dark complexion, with wavy blond hair that he kept combed back. The storm reflected as clear pictures in his dark brown eyes as he stared out into the distance. 

Kyle was a refugee, having brought his wife and daughter from South Africa months ago. They did not intend to stay on Mother Base for so long, but the Diamond Dogs had been kind to them; offering shelter, food, and work. 

He had been assigned to the Base Development Unit by a man with one arm and leg, who Kyle believed to be the commander, though he could not remember his name. He had heard rumors that there was a man with more authority and prowess on board Mother Base, but he had never managed to set eyes on this phantom. 

Truth be told, Kyle had only even met the one armed and legged man on two occasions, the day he and his family came to Mother Base and the day he was assigned his job. Beyond that, he had only gotten glimpses of him in passing. 

Part of the reason Kyle decided to remain on Mother Base was because he enjoyed his job. Living in South Africa, he was an experienced architect who built great prestige for himself. It was unfortunate that his success spiraled into a life of alcohol, drugs, gambling, and mistresses; and resulted in a graphical design mistake that ended several lives. But that was a life he left behind when he packed up his family and fled the country, running away from the mounting lawsuits against him. The Base Development Unit was enjoyable enough, and made use of many of the skills he had sharpened over the years. Kyle had even been honored with a level of authority within the unit, being the only architect on staff. Despite this promotion, improved accommodations were not included. He did not mind though; as long as his family had shelter, he was content. 

A heavy gust of wind breached the platform, causing Kyle to stumble backward as he lost his footing. The clouds darkened in the sky, reminding him of the approaching storm. The air was heavy with salt; he could taste it on his lips and feel it against his skin. 

"Hey... Schneider!" 

Kyle turned at the sound of his name being called. The source was a member of the Base Development Unit, standing a distance down the platform. 

"Storms coming in, we need to make sure everything is locked down!" He called out again. 

"Yah, I'm coming!" Kyle replied, watching the man nod his head and dash off. 

Turning back towards the storm, Kyle studied the approaching monsoon for a moment more before taking off.

 

* * *

 

Snake found himself growing restless, the storm having grounded all air traffic in and out of Mother Base. Waiting for Ocelot had already begun to feel like an eternity, he didn't even notice his finger tapping rapidly against the desk. He could tell D-Dog was was beginning to feel the same, watching him as he paced around Snake's quarters. Every few minutes, a crack of thunder would rattle the walls, causing the animal to stand rigid and shoot his head up, periscoping around the room. 

Snake shifted in his chair, resting against the back of it and closing his eyes. The sound of the outside rain began to relax his mind; the rhythmic patter was soothing to him. It was not long until he was rocked to sleep.

 

* * *

**6 Hours Earlier**

Despite being over 100 years of age, the Old Dine was far from feeble. The parasites that coexisted with his body gave him strength when it was required, and enhanced his senses to inhuman levels. They acted as his eyes and ears, giving him the ability to see and hear whatever he desired in much greater detail and range. While he would not admit ungratefulness to the gifts the parasites provided, he often times found himself growing weary of the constant voices in his head. Mother Base had grown, and so had the amount of people on board. The only place Code Talker could find solace was his lab. It was secluded and the thick walls dimmed the constant attack of people talking. I didn't matter if he was doing research or not, his lab was the most desirable place to be on base. 

The lab itself was similar to that of a chemistry classroom. A long table stretched across the center of the room, beakers of all shapes and sizes scattered across it. Occasionally, one could be found on top of a burner, bubbling over a low flame. Outlining the room was a row of cabinets and drawers with a countertop laid overtop. This space was a little bit more organized, but non-the-less, was home to more equipment, journals, and notes. 

Code Talker was glad to call his lab, "home". 

* * *

With great joy and enthusiasm, Code Talker had been working tirelessly in his lab for the past several hours. The Boss had just returned from a mission with something he had thought was all but destroyed: the Vocal Cord parasite. True, it was unfortunate that all the men brought back from the Black Site were doomed to die, the Vocal Cord parasite having already been activated within them, but Code Talker had not seen his creation in over two years. The chance to study them again was... exciting to him.

The old man was in the process of flipping through a set of year old notes when he heard the footsteps. Code Talker could identify the owner immediately, recognizing the weight of his steps from the rest. They increasingly grew louder as each step came closer to the door. The old man set his notebook down and turned his wheelchair towards the doorway, knowing that the Boss only came to this part of Mother Base when he wanted something. He kept his eyes on the door until it slid open with a hiss, Snake standing on the other side. 

"You always know when I'm coming." Snake spoke softly as he stepped into the room. 

"You walk with a distinguishable step." Code Talker spoke equally as soft, looking down Snake's form as he drew closer. "Though, this time, it appears to include a limp." 

Snake cracked a small smile and responded with a grunt, now standing over the old man. 

"You know what I like about you..." Code Talker changed the conversation, pointing a wrinkled finger in Snakes direction. "You're predictable. You never come through my door to make small talk, so do tell... what can an old man like myself do for you." 

The smile on Snake's face was replaced with his usual indifference as he reached towards his cassette player. Pulling it off of his belt, he unplugged the headphone jack and set it on the table. He didn't look towards the old man has he pressed the play button. Code Talker shifted his eyes to the cassette player as sound began to crack through the speakers.

* * *

Room 101. Its purpose, prisoner interrogation. 

Snake stood motionless just outside, shadowed by the dim light of the hallway. Thoughts of the pending confrontation raced through his mind. He wanted answers, but couldn't let emotions get the best of him. Taking a deep breath, he pressed a small red button on the wall. 

The door hissed open. 

Shotmaker sat in the center of the room, his head lowered to the ground. Snake narrowed his eye, focusing on the man as he stepped into the room. He carried himself slowly, each step echoing off the steel walls. 

"I knew it was only a matter of time until you came through that door." Shotmaker did not look up as he spoke. 

Snake gave no immediate response as he stopped in front of the man, looking down on him. 

"Let's get one thing straight." Snake spoke calmly, but his voice was deep and commanding. "Do. Not. Bullshit me." 

"That depends on what you want to know." Shotmaker kept his head to the floor. His voice was tired and slow, taking deep breaths between sentences. "I already told the cowboy everything he wanted to hear." 

"You didn't tell him what I want to hear." Snake raised his chin to the man.

"And what do you want to hear..." Shotmaker finally raised his head, meeting Snake's eye. "Boss?" 

The two men remained still, staring at each other in silence. Snake could see the fire burning in the other man's eyes, but it wasn't of malice or hatred. He tilted his head slightly as a smile slowly crept across Shotmakers face, responding with a scowl, offended at how relaxed this man was with his current situation. Realizing his enemy was attempting to gauge his emotional stability, Snake pressed on... seeking answers. 

"Back in the Black Site, you said you found the English strain of the Vocal Cord parasite. Who carried it? ”

“She did" Shotmaker took his eyes away from Snake's, leaning back in his chair. “Three samples created, she was the only to be infected.”

Snake lowered his eye, letting the name softly roll off his tongue, “Quiet.” 

When they locked eyes again, Snake could see the excitement behind his glossy pupils. This was a conversation he had been expecting... anticipating. Snake knew he had to proceed carefully. “What about the Eli, the boy, he was also infected?”

“I hadn’t heard.” Shotmaker presented no reaction to Snakes words, but his responses  was sincere.

“You’re lying to me! How can you possibly know her, she sacrificed her life two years ago.” It pained Snake to say those words, a small part of him hoping Shotmaker might be speaking the truth. 

"I know she was an agent of Cipher, I know what her mission was, and I know you two had grown... fond of each other. Unlike you, however, I know that she lived." 

Snake raised an eyebrow, interested in his words but remaining silent. 

"You know..." Shotmaker continued, a half-cocked smile across his face. "I almost feel bad for her. She was such a beautiful butterfly, if a little broken when she finally arrived to me." 

Snake could feel the beating in his chest begin to grow stronger, as if his heart was attempting burst free. Closing his eye, and taking a deep breath, he calmed his nerves before continuing... 

"Let's assume for a second that I believed you. She was not amongst the prisoners we rescued from your base. What happened to her?" 

"She was transferred off site after I was done with her." 

Snake clenched his fist as his blood began to boil, realization getting the better of his emotions. He attempted to swallow his frustration, maintaining his cool, though some part of him knew Shotmaker had the upper hand. 

"The evening I infiltrated the Black Site, I saw a prisoner being escorted out..." 

"Not many people get to leave once they have entered." Shotmaker leaned forward in his chair, moving closer to Snake as he widened his eyes. "If the sinking feeling in your gut is telling you, 'I just missed her'... it might just be right." 

Shotmaker's taunting words were the only motivation Snake needed to be pushed over his emotional barrier, popping his knuckles as he tightly clenched his fist. The strike that followed landed square across Shotmaker's cheekbone, knocking him from his seated position and flat against the cold metal floor. Somewhere, deep down, a part of Snake commanded him to stop, but there was no backing down now... 

"You son of a bitch! Where is she!" 

Shotmaker could not answer as he laid on the floor, coughing from the blow he had just taken. The left side of his face had already begun to swell a pinkish red, his eye half closed and blood dripping from his lips. Snake squatted down, bringing himself closer to Shotmaker, intent on making the bastard regret pushing him over the edge. 

"Look at me..." Snake's words hissed through his teeth as he grabbed Shotmaker's mohawk, lifting his head off the ground. "Where is she..." 

Shotmaker grunted, blood trailing from his mouth and bubbling in the back of his throat. 

"I'll ask one last time... where is she..." 

Shotmaker's un-swollen eye finally met with Snake's, a bloodied smile crossing his face. Behind gargled words, he finally spoke... 

"The handoff... is happening... in Pripyat. From there... she will be moved... to the States." 

Snake dropped Shotmaker's head back to the ground with a thud, breathing heavily as he stood back up. He wanted to kill the man laying on the ground in front of him, but having regained some of his emotional consciousness, he knew better than to act so hastily. Shotmaker was still a valuable source of information; not just on Quiet, but the entire operation he had been running post-Skull Faces death. Snake instead resolved to turn his back to him, leaving him in a pool of his own blood. 

"If she makes it to the States... you'll never see Annabelle again." Shotmaker gargled a final warning as Snake bound for the door, accepting his words as a challenge. 

When the door closed with a hiss, Snake collapsed to his knees, his anger and hatred cleansed from him as if it had been wiped away. It was in this moment that he felt the trepidation of aloneness; fearful of the consequences should he not rescue the girl he had become so close to. Shotmaker's words seemed so sincere, but the idea of her survival was still too surreal in his mind. Snake needed answers... he needed to see the Old Man.

* * *

The cassette tape emitted static noise. The old man glanced towards Snake as he returned the device to his belt. He studied his composure, his stoic stance. But behind his eye… there was pain and confusion.

"You wouldn't have me listen to that if you didn't have something on your mind." Code Talker prodded Snakes intentions, shifting in his chair. 

"Is it possible...?" Snake spoke softly, letting the question trail off. 

Code Talker did not need the full question, having received enough context from the recording. The old man heaved a heavy sigh, turning his wheelchair away from Snake. 

"Quiet had been... a special case. I regret having not had the chance to conduct my own research on her. As you might remember... that child carried two, different, types of parasites. The English strain of the Vocal Cord parasite, and the One That Covers. Skull Face would have had to modify them, so that they would not compete for dominance. Perhaps, this is why she only carried specific traits from each of them." 

"You're telling me information I already know old timer." Snake turned his body in the direction Code Talker was facing, resting his hands against the table in front of them. "What I need to know... is if was possible she could have survived after activating the parasites." 

"Patience, I'm getting to that." The old man looked towards Snake, who held his head down as he leaned against the table. "The parasite that gave Quiet life was a modded version of the One That Covers. It was designed to keep her alive, despite her lack of functioning organs. Now... I can't be for sure because I haven't tested this theory, but I believe... If it is true that she survived..." Snake turned his head to Code Talker as he spoke, his ears twitching with anticipation. "It is because the One That Covers is fighting the Vocal Cord Parasite... to keep her alive." 

There was no chance for silence when Code Talker finished speaking, a loud bang echoing through the room as Snake hammered his fist against the table. The beakers and bottles rattled as stillness returned to the air. With a huff of frustration, Snake pushed himself off the table and made his way for the door. 

"Wait, where are you going!" Code Talker turned his wheelchair in pursuit. 

Snake did not turn as he continued, quickly crossing the room. As the door hissed open, he spoke to himself, though it was the answer to the old man's question... 

"To bring her home." 

 

* * *

 

_Snake sat in the ACC as the African grasslands quickly passed outside the window. He paid little attention though as he remained focused on the holographic screen being produced by his iDroid, reviewing the mission debrief of the side op he and Quiet had just accomplished. It had been a translator snatch-an-grab, Kikongo from Miller’s report. He was thankful it had gone so well, the pair didn't even have to fire a shot._

_Snake was so focused on the mission report that he did not notice the pair of eyes staring at him intently. It wasn't until he closed his iDroid that he saw Quiet. Their eyes only met for a second before she quickly shifted her gaze, behaving as if she was trying to avoid being caught looking in his direction._

_Snake thought little of the action however. The two had only recently begun operating together and were still learning each other's personalities and how they behaved. Still... Snake couldn't help but feel that her quick movement was more than an innocent passing glance._

 

* * *

 

“Boss!"

Snake was standing on the ramp leading into Devil Dog when he heard Miller's voice behind him. At first, he was sure it was just the wind, as it had picked up considerably the past several hours. Mix that with the sound of the helicopter’s engine and rotating blades, and it was difficult to hear anything. Miller still managed to grab Snake’s attention though, who turned and watched him limp to the edge of the ramp. 

"Where do you think you're going!" Miller called out, though much of it was lost in the deafening noise around them. 

"I'm heading out!" Snake's voice was deep and cut through much of the noise.

"I can't let you do that Boss! Not with that heavy storm coming in from the North!" 

Snake looked out towards the direction Miller had indicated, the heavy winds now blowing in his face. There was still light in the sky, the sun having not yet fully set, but on the Northern horizon... there was no light. A great fog crept over the ocean as it breached the edge of the sea, shrouding everything it touched in darkness. Snake's eye darkened as the menacing cloud became what was once the horizon. 

"The storm will be on top of us in 2 hours, maybe less!" Snake did not look towards Miller as his XO spoke. "I've already begun emergency preparations for Mother Base... Including the grounding of all air traffic! I'm sorry Boss, but it's going to have to wait!" 

Snake turned towards Miller and walked down the ramp. When he was close enough that his XO could hear him without yelling, he spoke... "Find Ocelot. We need to talk.”

 

* * *

 

_Blood rolled down Snake's brow as he sat in the ACC, reflecting the red light behind him around the dark cabin as the helicopter glided through the night. Quiet was sitting in her usual position, as the pair headed back to Mother Base. They had been working together for some time now, and had gotten to know each other a little better. Well... truth be told... Snake still knew very little about her, but he had grown to be more comfortable around his companion. The sniper remained silent though, still never talking. Instead, Snake began to notice her acceptance of him through her body language. She had become much more relaxed when they were together in the ACC; so much so that on several occasions she gave Snake a pretty impressive view of her chest, though he had not yet figured out if this was on purpose or an innocent accident. He tried not to think too much of it however, reminding himself that... she was still a threat to his life._

_Quiet took notice of the blood on Snake's forehead whenever the light would glint off of its metallic sheen. She turned to him, a concerned expression visible across her face. Snake only glanced at her for a second, expecting her to keep to herself. To his surprise, however, she got up from her seat and moved close to him. The sudden movement caused Snake to sit up straight, out of his slumped position. Despite his caution, the girl remained undeterred, crouching in front of him._

_Snake locked his eye with hers as he waited for her next movement. In the past, he had avoided looking at her for too long, but in this moment it seemed to last forever. Her green eyes were beautiful, but also piercing; Snake began to feel uncomfortable._

_"What?" Snake broke the silence, trying to figure out why she had approached him, though he knew she would not answer. Quiet simply cocked her head to the side and cooed a low hum._

_Without taking her eyes off of him, Quiet removed the glove from her hand and began to slowly raise it towards Snake. He followed her movement intently with his eye, raising his guard as she grew closer. The sniper stopped when her hand was inches from his face, her eyes glowing; pleading with him. Snake's eye darted between her hand and eyes; recognizing her intention, he reluctantly closed his eye._

_Quiet's hand was much softer than he had expected. She ran the palm of her hand across his forehead, her fingers lightly brushing against his hair. Snake filled his lungs with a deep breath, releasing it slowly as the girl sitting in front of him wiped the blood from his face; he couldn't remember the last time he felt this relaxed, but the feeling of her soft skin was both relieving and concerning. Snake had to wonder if he was beginning to enjoy her touch._

_Snake opened his eye when he felt her hand pull away. Quiet was still sitting in front of him, smiling and softly humming._

_"Uhh... thanks."_

_As expected, Quiet gave not response and returned to her seat. Snake returned to his slumped position, watching the girl as she adjusted herself. When she was comfortable, the sniper again looked in his direction. Snake met his eye with hers for only a moment before turning his attention to the window. He could feel her gaze was still on him as he watched the night sky roll by, his thoughts beginning to wonder._

 

* * *

 

"No! I'm sorry Boss but I've got to put my foot down! I'm not going to have any of it!" Miller's face was blistering red as he paced around the room with a slow limp. 

Snake would have been fooling himself if he had expected any sort of positive response from Miller upon opening up discussions about Quiets survival. In fact, it was currently going better than he had expected. Miller hadn’t beaten anyone over the head with his cane yet. To say he had a great disdain towards her would’ve been an understatement. Before she came to Mother Base, Quiet was an agent for Cipher who’s job it was to kill Big Boss. Regardless of the fact that she failed on several occasions and eventually began to look up to him, Miller never forgave her. Now, two years later and that distrust still burned strong as Snake’s XO paced the room and vented loudly. All he could do was watch, as he leaned against a table with his arms crossed over one another.

Ocelot was seated across the room in a rather comfortable chair, his leg crossed over his knee with his thumb to his chin. He had not yet spoken a word since the conversation had started, though in truth, this was perhaps because Miller had not stopped his rambling since Snake had mentioned the sniper’s name. 

"I knew Cipher couldn't be dead! She was acting as a spy all along, feeding information! When she had what she wanted, she just left! We should’ve doubled our efforts!” 

"Enough!" Snake interjected, receiving an angry glance from his friend. "Miller, this has nothing to do with Cipher." 

"Boss, don't you get it?" Miller limped closer to Snake, who had now pushed himself off the table. "This is Cipher finally making their move. They are using your past relationship with this girl to lure us into a trap." 

Snake could smell the stench of alcohol on his friends breath, who was now at less than arms reach from him. Exhaling slowly, he realized arguing with Miller would be of no use right now; speaking in a calm tone. 

"What makes you so sure Cipher is behind this?" 

"Shotmaker is an agent for them. I knew it was only a matter of time until they tried to get to you through someone else." 

"Shotmaker never confessed to dealing with Cipher." 

"He doesn't have to!” 

Snake fixed his eye on Ocelot, who seemed to have been amused by the whole conversation. However, after taking notice of the concern across his Boss' face, motioned towards the door before getting up and walking out. Snake brought his attention back to his XO. "Regardless, Quiet is a Dimond Dog... and if there is a chance she is still alive..." Snake watched as Miller's complexion drained from anger into despair. 

"Quiets dead Boss... she died two years ago." Miller turned away from Snake, limping towards one of the windows that lined the wall. "If you go after her... you'll be walking into a trap." 

Snake had seen his friend in a state of distress before, but this time Miller's words carried a hopeless sorrow. He had no consolation for his friend as he lowered his head. The two shared no more words as Snake headed towards the door. 

Ocelot was waiting outside, leaning against the wall. Snake only gave him a passing glance as the two began walking in tandem through the hallway. 

"You conducted your own interrogation?" Snake inquired. 

"As soon as we returned to base, yes.”

"So what's it gonna be, is he working with Cipher or not?" 

"Inconclusive." 

"How so?" Snake came to abrupt stop, turning to Ocelot. 

"I don't think Shotmaker even knew who he was dealing with. Maybe it WAS Cipher... maybe just someone who used to work for them. Either way, we have no concrete evidence on Ciphers existence or not." 

"What do you think? Off the record.”

Ocelot glanced away from Snake in thought before speaking. "There is no doubt in my mind that there is someone, back in the States, who was heading Shotmakers Vocal Cord retrieval operation... but it's not Cipher." 

Snake did not know if his personal sigh that followed resulted from frustration or relief, turning to continue down the hallway. 

"What about Quiet?" 

The two walked in silence, Ocelot forgoing a response as he thought. 

"I don't have an answer." Ocelot finally spoke up, receiving a deep hum from Snake in response.

"Shotmaker never mentioned her in my interrogation. It is possible he was withholding information strictly for yourself.” Ocelot stopped, placing his hand on Snake's shoulder. "If I may ask, you seem awful convinced she is still alive... what makes you so sure?" 

Snake had not turned to look at Ocelot when they stopped, and continued to not do so as he stared blankly down the hallway. To his dismay, the walls began to enclose around him, taking the appearance of smooth steel hidden behind a blanket of thick smog. The creeks and rattling noises of Mother Base faded down the hallway, the haunting whistle of the winds moan returning in its place. The storm could faintly be heard outside, growing ever more distant as Snake's memory returned him to the Black Site. 

He could remember everything as clear as day. Shotmaker. The cells. The prisoner that was escorted out... 

"Snake?" 

Ocelot's voice returned him to Mother Base. Exhaling slowly, Snake tilted his head upward. 

"The night I infiltrated the Black Site..." Snake spoke to Ocelot, but did not look at him. "A prisoner was escorted offsite. Shotmaker confessed, it was her.”

Ocelot stepped back, taking his hand off Snake. “What do you want to do?”

Snake’s breath hitched, looking Ocelot in the eyes. “I left her alone for two years, Adam. I need to go find her… to bring her home.” 

"Snake... go get some rest. I think I might be able to help.”

 

* * *

 

_It was late in the evening when Pequod began his final approach towards Mother Base. Snake and Quiet sat silently in the ACC, both keeping to themselves He had taken note of her increased secludedness the past several days, following an incident in the rain between the two. Snake wished he could talk to her about it, though he knew she wouldn't say a word. Instead, he resolved to watching the still waters pass by outside the window, washing gently against the Medical Platform as it came into view._

_Snake shifted in his seat, an unusual amount of activity on the second deck catching his attention. "Pequod... land on the Medical Platform, second deck.”_

_"Yes Boss."_

_The activity had also attracted Quiets attention, who was now kneeling by the choppers window, watching as the people below grew closer. Snake recognized Ocelot and several of the Diamond Dog soldiers, who appeared to be corralling the group of kids that had arrived at Mother Base weeks ago. With a raised eyebrow, he wondered what had caused the commotion._

_Miller was already waiting by the helipad when Pequod touched down. Before sliding open the door, Snake ensured Quiet had vanished, glancing at the spot she had occupied moments before._

_"What's going on?"_

_Snake’s question garnered the attention of the group as he walked up to them. He looked towards Ocelot for an explanation, but one of the children spoke up first; speaking in his native tongue..._

_“Shabani..."_

_The kid raised a pointed finger to an opening in the deck behind Snake._

_"Shabani's... necklace…"_

_Snake followed the child's finger to the lower deck, raising his own in confirmation. "It's down there?"_

_The boy kept his arms stretched out, giving no response. Snake accepted this as reason enough to investigate, turning towards the opening in the deck. As he approached, a hand grabbed his shoulder._

_"Hey!" Ocelot positioned himself between Snake and his destination. "The tank at the bottom is filled with chlorine disinfectant."_

_Snake glanced towards the lower deck. The floor was only faintly visible behind a thick hazy fog that rose through the opening before dissipating in the open air._

_"One whiff and you'll suffocate."_

_Snake needed no more convincing. The chemical was so thick, he could smell it from where he was standing. He and Ocelot turned back towards the group, watching the kids pace anxiously, not understanding the danger that clouded the deck below._

_"Don't even—" Miller casually stated towards Snake before turning to the children. "How could you let it fall down there, anyway?"_

_Snake was not surprised when Miller received no answer. The blank stares from the children bounced between the adults in the group, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Ocelot was about to begin moving them off of the platform when something caught the boys attention._

_"No!"_

_Snake turned around just quick enough to watch Quiet vault over the railing. The world around him seemed to slow down as he watched the sniper plunge towards the chemical filled deck. He could feel his heart skip a beat as it dropped in his chest; wanting to cry out, but no words came to him._

_Snake's muscles flared to life as Quiet disappeared into the hazy fog, his legs carrying him to the railing. A firm hand latched onto his shoulders, holding him back and preventing him from chasing after her. Snake's eye and nose burned from the toxic fumes as he leaned over the edge, fruitlessly scanning the deck for his partner._

_"Hit the alarm!"_

_Snake cried out with the first thing that came to his voice, though he did not know what good it would do. Perhaps it wasn't for her, but himself as his muscles instinctively began to lift him over the railing. He would have jumped after her, too, had Ocelot not pulled him away, standing between him and the opening in the deck._

_"No!" Ocelot spoke, holding Snake’s shoulders. "You go down there and it is over."_

_Snake heard his words, but they did not resonate in his mind. Within seconds the alarm kicked to life, blaring its loud siren across every deck of Mother Base. Images of Quiet flashed behind Snake's consciousness, boiling his blood as his desire to jump after her overtook his own safety._

_"Boss!"_

_Miller called out helplessly as Snake pushed Ocelot to the side, reaching for the railing once more. Ocelot remained determined though, throwing himself on his Boss and positioning himself in front of him again._

_"Hey! Listen to me! There is no way to recover the body!"_

_Snake never placed his eye on Ocelot as he spoke to him, keeping his focus on the smoke that faded as soon as it appeared over the railing. Why would she throw her life away for something so trivial? Answerless questions raced through Snake's mind as an overwhelming amount of discomfort began to wash over him, bringing him close to a state of tears. These feelings were unnatural to him... he couldn't let anyone see him breaking down... he had to get out..._

_Snake’s breath hastened as he turned away from Ocelot. As he did so, the two locked eyes in passing glance. Ocelot was a man who could keep many secrets, but the sorrow in his eyes gave him away this time: he was aware of his Boss' distress over the current situation._

_"What kind of stunt was that." Snake could hear Miller's words behind him, not surprised by his lack of sympathy. "Trying to panic us..."_

_Snake's eye glossed over the children that stood in front of him, each of them focused on him, their eyes filled with confusion and concern. It hadn't been their fault, but Snake wanted to blame them; he HAD to blame them... but he didn't know why._

_Two of the boys no longer set their eyes on Snake as he approached them, their attention focused behind him. He thought little of it... until they sprinted past him. He didn't want to look, afraid to face that pit again, yet found his body turning anyway. What caught his eye, he believed was nothing short of a miracle. A gloved hand emerged from the poisonous fog, clutching the railing with what life it had left. In an instant, all of the emotion, the distress, and the anger he had felt came rushing back to him like a wave._

_He. Would. Not. Show. Weakness._

_Like a shot of adrenaline, Snake leaped into action. "Move!"_

_He wasted no time placing a firm grip on the shoulders of the two boys standing by the railing, causing them to lose balance as he pushed his way between them. Quiet was struggling to lift herself out by time Snake reached her, grabbing her by the arm to pull her over the railing before catching her in his own. He could hear her grunts of pain as he did so, her body covered in red blisters and burns. A small pendant dropped from her hand as he lifted her into a carrying position, his arms supporting her back and knees._

_Snake spoke no words to the group of surprised onlookers as he turned towards the first deck of the Medical Platform, walking off with Quiet in his arms. He moved slowly, careful to avoid causing any more discomfort. He never took his eye off of her as he walked, wondering how it had come to this..._

_Snake looked at the face of the assassin, one that had tried to kill him not long ago, and realized that he did, in fact, care for her. After all their time together in the ACC, out in the field, and... in the rain... Snake's heart broke to see her in so much pain._

_"Don't worry, I've got you." He spoke softly to the girl in his arms._

 

* * *

 

A crack of thunder woke Snake from his rest. He was still seated, slumped over in the chair. DD was standing nearby, his ears pointed straight as he listened to the thunder roll into the distance. Once it was gone, the animal began pacing the room again. Snake noticed his dogs distress as he sat up, stretching his sore muscles.

“Feeling restless there buddy.” Snake spoke to the dog as he pushed himself out of his chair. DD, noticing his master had finally awoken, turned his attention to the closed door, resting his nose against it.

“Alright… just give me a sec.” Snake yawned and proceeded to pop several of the bones in his body as he made his way to the door. His watch told him little over six hours had passed since he last spoke to Ocelot, wondering what might be taking him so long.

When the door finally opened, DD wasted no time bounding through the hallway, but Snake did not follow. Ocelot stood just beyond the threshold.

“Ocelot…” Snake spoke.

“It’s time to go.”

“And Miller?”

“He won’t suspect a thing until it’s too late.”

Snake nodded slowly, following Ocelot down the hallway.

* * *

Devil Dog's rotors cut through the rain like a knife, causing an umbrella effect underneath it. Snake and Ocelot were greeted by the helicopters crew as they approached, exchanging a few words that were muffled by the storm and chopper engine. 

Devil Dog's crew loaded aboard, followed closely by their Boss who turned to give one last glance towards Ocelot. The helicopter jerked as it began to rise into the air, the storm rocking it as soon as it was off the ground. Snake continued to watch Ocelot who stood alone in the rain, raising his hand and gesturing a farewell. He mouthed something, but his words were devoured by the crack of thunder. 

Snake turned and entered the helicopter, the ramp closing behind him. 

 


	6. ABANDONED

**ABANDONED**

* * *

 

Snake sat at his desk, sleeping. D-Dog paced the room nearby. The storm raged outside, but did not disturb the resting soldier.

_“Boss…”_

Snake stirred. He was in pain. His stomach churned, his head ached, and his left fingertips burned. The sounds of the storm had vanished, and the room was dark. But the air was warm and musky, heavy with moisture. He could hear the drip of a leaky faucet in the bathroom.

_“Boss…”_

Snake snapped his neck to the bathroom. A figure stood in the doorway, concealed by the shadows. Its left arm was missing, and a horn protruded from its forehead. It spoke, its voice deep and underscored with the low rumble of a volcano. _“Somethings should have never been altered. History is set. Destiny should not be changed. Proceed and the consequences shall be yours. Stay away…”_

Drip… drip… drip…

Snake sat at his desk, sleeping. D-Dog paced the room nearby. The storm raged outside, but did not disturb the resting soldier.

 

* * *

 

Devil Dog rocked violently as it glided through the sky, wind and rain breaking against it. Pequod maintained a low altitude, close to the ocean’s surface, to avoid the threatening clouds that spiraled above them. Inside the cabin, there was an uncomfortable silence; no one dared speak to one another. Snake sat watching the crashing of the waves just outside his window. Flashes of lightning rolled through the clouds and streaked across the sky, like a war being waged in the heavens; and under the ocean. Occasionally, a bolt would break the clouds and strike the water’s surface, emitting a flash of blinding white light. In these moments, Snake could see his reflection in the glossy finish of the window... 

But it was never really himself that he saw. 

* * *

Devil Dog depressurized as the loading ramp opened, the cabin filling with a gust of wind that carried the sounds of the chopper’s rotors and engines. Pequod no longer flew close to the ocean's waves, but maintained a comfortable altitude just beneath the clouds. Having broken the storm barrier moments before, Snake was ready for some fresh air. 

His crew watched in disbelief as he crept out on the ramp, supporting himself with one of the hydraulic beams. 

Snake closed his eye as he inhaled the ocean’s crisp aroma, filling his lungs with the early mornings dew. With each breath of fresh air, Snake was reminded of how musky the helicopter’s cabin had become. Opening his eye again, he looked towards the clouds. They were like lumpy marshmallows glazed over the earth’s surface, blocking out the sun and coloring everything a smokey gray. The ocean below was crystal blue, smooth enough to paint a perfect reflection of the clouds above as it sat motionless. In the distance behind them, Snake could still see where the clouds grew darker, and a maelstrom rocked the ocean waters. 

Snake's view of the storm became blurred when the light of the sun blinded his eye. Holding his hand up to shadow his vision, Snake watched as Devil Dog passed underneath the charcoal colored clouds, leaving them in the distance. The entire sky had opened up in an instant, untouched by the raging storm. For miles, the ocean was a deep blue, rays of light bouncing off of it and shimmering with its faint movements. The heat of the sun warmed Snake's dry skin as he stood on the ramp, comforted by everything he saw. 

It was a new day... 

* * *

 "Tower, this is Devil Dog... do you copy? Tower, this is Devil Do—" 

"They can't hear you son." Snake placed his hand on Wire's shoulder, cutting him off. The boy returned a concerned glance, unsure of how to proceed. 

Snake only nodded his head before turning towards the rest of his crew. Doc sat near the rear of the chopper, reviewing a collection of documents he had received from Ocelot. Snake had not concerned himself with them, but he believed they had something to do with Quiet. Wasp stood in his usual position by the side-door gun, watching the ocean pass below them. Wrench was near the weapons rack, loading empty magazines with bullets.

"Listen up!" Snake broke the silence, their eyes shifting in his direction. "By now your probably wondering why we broke lockdown protocol." The crew sat silent, no one wanting to interrupt their Boss. "This mission is extremely time sensitive, and could not wait any longer... it's a VIP rescue." 

Snake noticed his crew's eyes as they darted between one another. Wrench was the first to speak up, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Boss, we are with you all the way... but something about this mission feels off. Commander Ocelot was extremely vague with us, and we received no orders from your XO." 

She had always been the bravest of the group, unafraid to speak her mind. Snake respected that, but still knew there were some secrets he could not yet reveal. "It's personal." He knew that was an unsatisfactory answer, but his crew accepted it anyway.

"What are your orders then, Boss." Wrench spoke for the group again. 

Snake nodded as he pulled out his iDroid. It chimed to life with a high pitch beep, as a holographic map blew up between the group. 

"This is Pripyat, in the Ukraine region." The crew leaned in, looking over the map as Snake pointed to it. "Shotmaker has identified this square here as the location of the handoff. Currently, the VIP is in the hands of Shotmaker’s forces, and we have reason to believe the other group may be associated with Cipher.”

“Cipher!? Boss?” A shocked Doc exclaimed.

“It’s hard for me to believe as well.” Snake stated, shaking his head.

"Two hostile groups and one friendly target... what's are plan of attack?" Wrench asked, rubbing her chin with the bottom of her thumb. 

"Devil Dog will drop me off here..." Snake pointed at the grasslands on the outskirts of the city. "From there, I will make my way into the city and take a position at the top floor of this hotel, overlooking the square. I will maintain a sniper position until the time of the handoff; which could happen anytime within a 72 hour window. When it does happen, we will have to move fast. I will provide covering fire as Devil Dog comes in for the extract. Any questions?" 

"Yah..." Wire spoke up, pointing towards the map. "Why here? What's significant about this city?" 

"April 26th of this year..." Snake spoke without taking his eye off of Wire. "The Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant went into catastrophic meltdown, releasing radioactive particles into the atmosphere. Pripyat sits at ground zero... the cities abandoned... dead." Snake turned to face the rest of the group, his tone no less serious. "It's the perfect place for something like this..." 

The crew remained silent, each of their eyes fixed on the iDroids map as to prevent eye contact. No one spoke a word as there were no words to be spoken. Each of them knew they were heading into the arms of the devil, to be carried into the depths of hell.

 

* * *

 

Devil Dog jolted as it touched down. Snake was perched on the loading ramp when it did so, holding himself steady when his weight shifted. Snake and his crew had equipped breather masks, protecting themselves from the toxic air. Looking around, Snake examined his surroundings; it was nothing like Afghanistan or Africa. 

The grass was tall and swayed slowly in the wind, but it was dead. The field was an ocean of lifeless flowers and shrubbery, coloring the landscape with rusty grays and browns. What green was left could be found on the occasional tree, though even then, the leaves had begun to wither and drop to the ground. The only word Snake could think of to describe what he saw... was 'depressing'.

Overhead, the sky was a canvas of hazy clouds that looked like plumes of smoke. The sun was high in the sky, saturating the surrounding area with a grayish hue as it attempted to breach the thick clouds; though no rays of light managed to shine through. 

Holding out his hand, Snake watched as tiny specks of soot settled against his palm and fingers. Upon closer inspection, he discovered the air was full of the minuscule particles; floating around with the light breeze. Even through his rebreather, he could almost taste the sourness in the air with each labored breath. 

Over the treetops, and in the distance, Snake could see a glimpse of the city. Only a few months ago, Pripyat had housed nearly 50,000 men, women, and children; most of whom worked in the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant just outside the city. When the reactors entered catastrophic meltdown, the city had to be evacuated immediately. Most people simply grabbed their families and fled, leaving everything they had once owned behind. Pripyat now stood abandoned and alone, a tomb of past lives and memories. The city was now a graveyard. 

"Boss..." 

Snake turned away from the bleak and dismal sights, Doc having approached him from behind. His voice was muffled by his rebreather. "Take this." Doc handed a small, handheld device to Snake. It had no dials or buttons, but a thin needle that looked like the hand of a clock. "That there is a Geiger Counter. It detects radiation levels. I suggest you keep that needle as low as possible." 

Snake accepted the gift with a nod, attaching it to his belt. As Doc walked away, Wrench filled his spot. "Here's the weapon you requested Boss. Fully modified and ready for action." 

The rifle she handed over was a customized AM MRS-73. It was a semi-automatic rifle with moderate range but high bullet velocity, able to bring a man down with a single shot to the chest. Snake had it modified with a short barrel for increased mobility, with a silencer attached to the end. A grip along the under barrel of the weapon gave him added support when aiming. Lastly, Snake had it equipped with a sniper scope for long range shooting, though canted iron sights gave him the option of close quarters should it be required. Snake accepted the weapon happily, inspecting it before slinging it on his back. Wrench saluted her Boss before heading back into the helicopter. 

The ground was muddy and soft, sinking slightly as Snake stepped off of the ramp. He noted that it almost felt spongy, saturated with the chemical waste. He took one last glance towards his crew as the helicopter’s ramp began to close. He could recognize the concerned thoughts behind their eyes, but they nodded their acceptance of the mission non-the-less. 

Snake turned towards the wasteland and pressed forward. The only sound available to him was the rustle of the grass and the ghostly whistle of the wind. 

* * *

Traveling through the exclusion zone had proven much more difficult than Snake expected. The pockets of intense radiation prevented him from taking a direct path to the city, but zig-zagged him through the wasteland. As he walked, he would often come upon the remnants of human life. The skeleton of a house still standing alone and abandoned, with a half eaten family dinner still laid out on the table. An empty church that no longer provided comfort to the scared, God having been replaced by mankind's thirst for nuclear power. The road leading out of the city was a graveyard; rusty cars lined up haphazardly, having been abandoned when the panicked traffic grind'ed to a halt. Snake paid little attention to the sights... they were too depressing. 

Pripyat was even worse, though. 

The apartment blocks towered over Snake as he made his way into the city. A ghostly chill traveled down his spine as he looked towards the empty buildings, as if expecting a figure to be standing behind the foggy glass of one of the windows, only to move as soon as he spotted it. There was an uncomfortable feeling he could not shake. The feeling of eyes watching his every move in silence, though he could not find them. 

Snake was not a religious man, but this place felt as if it had a powerful presence. The bleak and gray buildings that stood silently in the abandoned city whispered in Snake's ear; pained cries from the spirits that still inhabited them. The bone-chilling dread pleaded for him to turn around, but Snake knew he had to press on... for her sake. 

By the time Snake reached the hotel, the sky had begun to darken, though the sun still remained invisible. He was weary and exhausted, the radioactive air burning in his lungs despite the rebreather. _Three more days of this_ he thought to himself as he saddled his gear and headed into the hotel. 

* * *

Snake had gotten little sleep throughout the night, uncomfortable with how silent the city was in the dead of night. He had grown used to sleeping in strange locations, whether it was Afghanistan or Africa, a hard concrete floor or a damp muddy ground. Despite there less than desirable conditions, those places still provided the comforting sounds of life throughout the night; be it people talking, animals moving around, or even just the crackle of a campfire. This place was different... where people should be found, there was nothing but silent air. There were no birds in the sky, no dogs on the ground, or even mice in the walls. The only sound available to Snake as the night progressed was the empty whistle of the wind as it passed uninterrupted through the lifeless buildings. 

His first day was spent setting up. 

The hotel Snake had set up in overlooked the city square. It was a fairly open area, with several other buildings surrounding it. Placing his rifle on a bipod gave him a perfect sightline to the area below, with only a few thin trees scattered here and there. Near the rear of the building, he anchored a hook next to a blown out window. This would allow him to quickly rappel down the hotel once the fighting started. 

Occasionally as Snake worked, the sound of children's laughter echoed with the wind. It had startled him a few times, but fruitless attempts to find the source convinced him it was only his imagination. 

He went about his day, preparing for the events that would happen in the next 72 Hours…

* * *

  **48 Hours until Hand-off**

The crack of thunder woke Snake from his sleep. He was blinded at first, unable to see through the dark of night. Reaching for his flashlight, he flipped it on; the beam of light cut through the night like a knife, piercing the darkness before being devoured by it again. The weight of the darkness was unnerving, preventing Snake from seeing anything but what he pointed his light towards as it closed in around him. Directing the light outside, the drops of rain became visible as the light glinted off them as they drizzled to the ground. 

The air in the hotel was brisk and off-putting, so much so that it almost felt alien. Snake could feel it resting against his skin, and settling in his lungs. On it, the wind carried the patter of the rain and the howl of the breeze. Snake rested his head back and closed his eye, listening to the to the sounds of the abandoned city. 

That was when he heard it... 

_A melody... a hum... a familiar tune..._

Snake shot up so that he was sitting, his eye burning as he attempted to peer into the thick darkness. Picking up his flashlight, he scanned the room. There was nothing to see but the decaying remnants of what had been left behind... the room was empty. 

_A melody... a hum... a familiar tune..._

Snake's ears twitched, turning the light in the direction of the stairwell. The doorway was empty, but the hum echoed through it. 

Snake drew his handgun as pushed himself to his feet, moving slowly towards the stairwell. Each step was slow, keeping his sights trained on the doorway. The crunch of papers littered across the floor resounded with each step. Turning the corner quickly, Snake shot his light down the stairwell. Again, it was empty. 

_A melody... a hum... a familiar tune..._  

Something was leading him down, that, he could no longer deny. The hum bounced through the rooms and the corridors of the hotel, hiding beyond the dark shadows. Snake followed the tune, down the stairs. 

It stopped when he reached a long corridor. Pointing his light down it, he could not see the other side. Stepping into the hallway, Snake noticed the rooms that lined the corridor. He was now in the heart of the graveyard. The air held its breath and no longer carried its hollow howl, like a dull moan fading out of the abandoned rooms. Pictures of broken lives hung crooked on the walls, as possessional belongs sat patiently on the floors, waiting for their owners return. 

Snake walked slowly through the hallway, coming to a stop when he felt the weight of something against his boot. Shining his light to the ground, he picked up a small doll. It was crude and poorly stitched together. Maybe it was his imagination, but for a second he could have sworn he heard the sound of a child's laughter echoing through the walls. 

_A melody... a hum... a familiar tune..._

Snake dropped the doll when he heard it again. It was close... inside one of the rooms. With a small amount of haste, he scanned the rooms as he moved through the corridor, each one turning out empty. He had almost lost hope of finding the source of the hum until his light broke the darkness of the final room. 

Caught in the center of his beam was a woman, standing with her back to Snake. Her hair was down, but short enough to not pass her shoulders. Snake felt his heart begin to quicken as his eye followed the lines down her back. She was completely bare, except for the black bottoms she wore. His eye began to twitch as she turned around, facing him with her arms to her side. 

Snake tried to maintain focus on her face, but it was in vain; his eye trailing down her body as she began to walk towards him, a smile on her face and humming a familiar tune. Her skin was smooth and flawless, as if it was too perfect to be real. With each step, her breasts swayed gently, topped by two salmon pink nipples that pointed erect from the chilly air. Her legs were long and slender, but strong enough that he could see the flex of her muscles as she walked. 

He knew he shouldn't, but Snake lowered his weapon as she drew closer. His breath hitched when she stopped in front of him, close enough that he could have touched her without raising a finger. She simply smiled at him, staring into his eye before looking down to his rebreather. Snake jerked his head back when she reached for it, reminding himself of the toxic chemicals that filled the air. She remained undeterred, however, humming as she lightly placed her hands on his mask. 

Snake closed his eye as she gently pulled it off of him, lifting it over his head. His first realization was of how clean the air tasted on his lips, and in his lungs... but it was also a warning. 

"You can't be real..." Snake looked into the green eyes of the girl that stood before him, slowly shaking his head. 

In response, she put her hand to his check. Her touch was soft and comforting, causing Snake to close his eye as he pressed against her palm. Then, he felt something he had never experienced before... 

A pair of lips gently pressed against his own... 

Snake's heart jumped, sitting upright in his makeshift cot. The sun was out, though not visible past the gray clouds that hovered in the sky. The ground outside was damp from the evening's rain. Everything was normal... as it had been. 

Again, she had been a dream…

* * *

**24 Hours until Hand-off**

_"I wanted to express my feelings to you. If only we shared a common tongue..."_

Quiet's tape played in Snake's ears as he stared across the horizon, looking over the city. A ferris wheel in the distance caught his attention. It rose above the rooftops like a beacon, but children did not come. The pods hung empty, swaying gently in the wind. Further in the distance, was the Chernobyl Power Plant. It stood alone in the outskirts, casting its shadow over the abandoned city. 

His thoughts began to wonder, having grown weary from the endless waiting. 

His first thoughts were of Cyprus, and the assassin that had tried to kill him when he woke from his coma. She died that night, caught up in a ball of fire. Born from her ashes was the sniper Quiet, the women Snake identified with and had grown fond of. He understood now what it had all been about, her behavior and how she moved, and ultimately why she decided to leave him. It was true what Ocelot had said about her, that she had fallen in love with him; even if he didn't see it at the time. Two years ago, he didn't want to accept the thought of a relationship, revenge having been their motive for everything. That's the problem with revenge... it's all consuming, a cancer that destroys from the inside. It had infected him, as well as her... but he was ready to move on. 

Next, Snake thought of the many hours they spent in the ACC. For such a quiet girl, she always had something to say in their trips together. It saddened him to realize that everything she did back then was an attempt to get his attention, though he would rarely give her the time of day. He wondered if he had done things differently, would he still be standing here now... 

_"I am Quiet... I am... the absence of words."_

The tape finished playing.

* * *

Snake had gotten no sleep the previous night, his mind a web of thoughts and memories; and his veins pumping with anticipation. By now, it was adrenaline that kept him awake. 

The first sign of life was carried on the wind. The hum of motorized engines. 

Minutes passed before the vehicles could be seen on the horizon, speeding quickly down the road and kicking up a cloud of dust behind them. Snake focused his rifle’s sights on them as they entered the city, stopping just short of the square. Climbing out of the vehicles, unmarked mercenaries began to surround the square. Snake’s muscles tighten at the sight of the soldiers. They were professionally equipped and wore heavy combat gear. Their jet black uniforms were identical, and freshly cleaned. They were no PF organization, that was for sure. 

Once the square was locked down, another man emerged from one of the vehicles. He was clean, wearing a crisp black suit and tie. His hair was combed and parted down one side. Snake recognized him instantly as a company man. His finger twitched on the trigger, wondering if this was the man who pulled all the strings. He could end it right here... 

He did not fire though, the sound of more vehicles approaching from behind drew his attention. 

Snake watched as the vehicles stopped near the square, opposite the other forces. This time it was Soviet soldiers that climbed out, filling the area. _20\. Between 20 and 30_. Snake counted the total number of combatants that now paced the city below him, giving each other shifty glances as they waited to see who would make the first move. 

Unlike the soldiers, the man in the suit remained completely calm, his hands resting behind his back. He walked out to the center of the square, and waited. 

Snake's breath quickened when he finally saw her, pulled from one of the vehicles by a Soviet soldier. She was wearing a dark colored jumpsuit that covered her entire body, with a bag pulled over her head. Her hands were tied behind her back. 

She stumbled when she tried to walk, falling to her knees. Snake's blood boiled as he watched the soldier violently lift her to her feet and drag her forward. 

"Devil Dog, I've got eyes on the target... begin your approach." Snake's trigger finger was itching badly.

The soviet soldier and the man in the suit exchanged a few words in Russian when they had met up in the center of the square. It was at that moment that he revealed her, the man in the suit pulling the bag from her head. 

What Snake saw broke his heart. He might have even cried if another entity didn't take over...


	7. TO SAVE A BUTTERFLY

**TO SAVE A BUTTERFLY**

* * *

 

The Soviet soldier pushed his prisoner to her knees in front of the man wearing a black suit and tie, exchanging a few words of Russian with him. Snake's scope bounced between the two men, watching them as their transaction proceeded.

“Devil Dog, I’ve got eyes on the target… begin your approach.” Snake’s trigger finger itched. He was growing nervous as his window of opportunity began to quickly diminish.

The two men exchanged a handshake before the man in the suit reached for the prisoner, pulling the bag off that had covered her head. Snake saw everything through his scope... 

Her pale and cracked skin…

The lacerations across her neck…

The tears that had dried as bloody stains on her cheeks... 

Snake's chest burned as his heart skipped a beat. He had been to hell and back again, but never had he witnessed so much pain in one's eyes. He might have even cried if another entity didn't take over... 

His demon…

The bringer of death... 

The phantom of revenge... 

He pulled the trigger. 

The bullet exited the barrel with a silent pop, muted by the suppressor. It was as sharp as a spear as it pierced the air in a circular glide, as if the air itself was warping around it so that it could pass uninterrupted. Its target never even knew it was coming. 

Within nanoseconds, the Soviet soldier standing next to Quiet collapsed, his chest bursting open like a watermelon. The soldiers on both sides went into a frenzied panic, jumping for cover and quickly scanning the buildings around them. The man in the suit reeled back, having been covered in blood that sprayed from the soldier’s chest. Snake set his sights on the him, but before he could fire, the man was surrounded by several of his guards, acting as human shields as they escorted him back to the vehicles.

Snake took his eye off his scope, following the black sedan as it sped out of the area.

“Snayper, v otele!”

Snake turned his attention to the soldiers below. They were pointing in his direction. Shouldering his rifle again, Snake fired another round. The bullet hit its mark, blowing through a Soviet soldier’s skull.

“Ogon’, otkrytyy ogon’!”

The sound of firecrackers filled the air; machine gun pops that echoed through the concrete city. Snake ducked for cover as chunks of concrete splintered around him, glazing him in a layer of dust. Holding his breath, Snake brought his eye back to his scope. The whizz of passing bullets was deafening, like the screech of nails on a chalkboard. His aim was unsteady. Snake pulled the trigger.

The bullet veered to the left, hitting its target in the right shoulder; most likely shattering his clavicle. It wasn’t a killing blow, but the soldier was down on the ground in an instant.

Snake moved his scope to another and fired. It did not find its target, the bullet sparking against the ground close by. _Shit!_ Snake fired again. The round pierced just above the man’s sternum. He crumpled to the ground, blood gushing out of the wound.

The firefight continued until Snake’s magazine ran dry. 

An enemy round landed next to Snake. He chocked on the chalky dust that plumed in the air. Rolling on his side, he wheezed, gasping for clean air. Reaching for a pouch on his belt, Snake pulled out a fresh magazine. The ground was hard, and his muscles were sore as he rolled back to his rifle. Bullets zipped near his head as he worked the magazine into the rifle.

Shouldering his weapon, Snake brought his eye back to the scope. The soldiers below had dug in, firing at him from the safety of their cover. Snake squeezed the trigger - “AGH!”

Snake flinched as a sharp pain entered his skull. Rolling onto his back, he placed his hand against his temple. A cold, thick fluid seeped between his fingers. It was blood. Snake ran two fingers over the wound, studying the damage. The bullet had grazed the side of his head, just above the ear.

The barrage of fire stopped. Snake listened for a moment. Everything was silent, except for the crumbling of the building around him. Then he heard it. It started of distant, quickly growing louder as it approached. The sound was like a charging engine, quickening in pace and pitch. A revolving cylinder screeching against a spindle. A crooked smile crossed Snake’s lips…

Devil Dog roared overhead like a tiger pouncing on its prey, its mini-gun opening fire with a loud scream, echoed by the sound of empty casings cascading to the concrete below. 

Snake rose to his feet, the tension in his muscles releasing and relief washing over him. The soldiers below had completely removed their focus from him, opening fire on the helicopter with their small arms. Devil Dog had taken up a circular path around the square, raining hellfire down on its helpless prey from the side door gun placement. Snake could see Wasp was enjoying the fight.

Snake lifted the rifle to his shoulder, firing into the confused crowd. He landed several hits, dropping their limp bodies like bean bags. The soldiers were running for their vehicles, desperate to get out of the open. However, Devil Dog’s machine gun was equipped with armor piercing rounds, powerful enough to cut through the steel bodies of their sedans with little resistance. One of the car’s gas tanks ignited, exploding in a white ball of fire.

With no were else to turn, the soldiers ran in all directions. Snake watched through his scope until they were no longer visible, disappearing into abandoned buildings of the city. The gunfire ended, the city was silent once more; save for the beat of Devil Dog’s rotors. Lowering his weapon, Snake looked over the square. It had become soaked in a bath of blood. In the center of it all, Quit still sat motionless.

Snake's heart sank. "Pequod, I am exiting the hotel. Maintain your flight path." 

_“Yes, Boss.”_

Snake swung the rifle on his back as he made his way to the rear of the room, tethering himself to the hook he had planted days before. Without a second thought, he jumped from the window, rappelling down the side of the hotel. 

Snake pulled out his pistol when he reached the ground, detaching himself from his rope. There was an uncomfortable stillness on the air. Sitting on his knee, Snake scanned the buildings around him. He could hear their movements, their muffled whispers hidden in the shadows. 

Checking his corners as he made his way around the hotel, Snake moved slowly towards the square, his pistol held close to his chest. The row of vehicles the Soviets had driven up in were riddled with bullet holes, and had become mangled mess' of twisted metal and shredded leather. As he crept past, Snake kept his eye on the bloodied bodies that lined them, ensuring they were in fact dead. 

It had not taken long for the square to clear out, bodies of the dead being the only thing left behind. Snake counted them as he crossed the ocean of blood, making note of how many hostiles still lived. More than he had hoped for. Devil Dog circled the square above, scanning for enemy movement. 

Quiet sat on her knees, facing away from Snake. Approaching slowly, he knelt down behind her, tucking his pistol away in its holster. She remained motionless, sitting in the blood that had begun to soak into her jumpsuit. 

Snake licked his lips lightly as he reached his prosthetic out, holding his breath as he gently raised it to her shoulder. He released a shaky exhale when his hand rested against her, though his prosthetic did not allow him to truly feel her in his hand. The girl continued to sit silently, unmoving. Pulling out his knife, Snake cut the ropes that bound her hands behind her back, letting her arms dangle loosely to her sides as her hands splashed in the pool of blood. 

"Quiet..." Snake's words were hushed behind his rebreather; he moved closer to her. "It's me..." 

Quiet did not respond. Snake's attention to her broke when he heard the sound of ruffled movement and indistinguishable voices. He looked up and around, peering into the buildings before turning back to Quiet. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pulled her back into his arms. A feint moan gargled in her throat, but she did not respond to Snake as he cradled her in his arms. Waving his hand in front of her face, her eyes did not register his motions. They had turned a milky white.

Her skin was pale and cracked, spotted with open soars. Streaks of crimson red stained her cheeks and around her swollen eyes. Snake placed a finger on her lips; they were crudely stitched together.

Clenching his fist, Snake took his eye off the girl in his arms, looking towards the bodies littered in the street. They were dead - mangled corpses. Devil Dog’s heavy armaments had sawed through some of their spongy bodies, separating them into two. Their guts spilled out like a half squeezed tube of toothpaste. They were gone, but Snake still felt angry - furious, at them.

"Pequod, I've secured the target... it’s not good. Lets get out of here.” Snake hoisted Quiet in his arms, lifting her as he rose to his feet.

 _"Roger that Boss. Coming in f— Shit! RPG! RPG!"_  

Snake turned just in time to watch one of the mercenaries step out into the open, a rocket launcher hoisted on his shoulder. The spindle of Devil Dog's mini-gun kicked to life, but it wasn't fast enough. A cloud of smoke exploded out of the back of the launcher as its payload shot into the air, careening through the sky like a fiery dragon. 

 _"HANG ON!"_ Pequad's voice cracked through Snake's radio as he watched Devil Dog bank sharply, the rocket barely grazing the hull. 

Pequod fought to regain control as Devil Dog did several horizontal spins from the sudden, forced movement. 

Machine gun fire filled the air again, catching Snake out in the open. He gritted his teeth as several rounds caught him in the shoulder. He almost dropped Quiet from the pain. Around him, bullets ricocheted off the ground, geysering the pools of blood where they landed. “AGH!” Snake collapsed to his knee when his left leg gave out from underneath him, his thigh pierced through. He couldn't see, his was vision blurry and spotted from the overwhelming pain. His muscles felt as if they were on fire.

A gust of wind knocked Snake off balance, pushing him to the ground. Devil Dog had swooped in just overhead, its mini-gun roaring to life as it sprayed a line of fire into the enemies position. Snake covered his head as the shell-casing began to litter the ground around him. To touch one was like touching a hot ember. 

 _"Boss! You need to move!"_ Pequad's words rang true as Snake pushed himself off the ground. 

Scooping Quiet back into his arms, he limped for the nearest cover; a row of pillars that held up one of the building overhangs. He barely made it half way when the screech of the rocket could be heard again.

 _"HOLD ON!"_ Pequod hit the stick again, narrowly dodging the rocket as it passed by, exploding when it hit the hotel roof. 

Every muscle in Snake’s body burned as he dragged himself inside one of the buildings, dropping Quiet and collapsing to the floor when he was sure the gunfire could no longer reach him. The wound in his thigh was bleeding profusely. Snake hissed through his teeth, keeping himself from blacking out was the hardest part. Mustering what adrenaline he had left, he tore a strip of cloth off of his arm sleeve, knotting it above the wound until the blood flow slowed down. Outside, Devil Dog struggled to regain stability, splintering several trees as it glided through the square.

Snake reached for his radio, ”Pequod, get out of here! Clear the city and double back for me! I'll find a new LZ!”

_“Boss?!"_

"GO!" 

 _"Roger... Boss.”_ There was distress in Pequad’s voice.

Devil Dog ascended into the sky, turning tail out of the city. The pops from the machine guns continued for several for moments, until the helicopter could no longer be seen. When silence returned, Snake lifted Quiet off the ground and began to limp away. It would only be a matter of minutes until the soldiers came searching for him. 

With each pained step, he headed deeper into the heart of the city.

* * *

Snake grunted as he tightened his belt around his leg, cutting off circulation to the open wound. Shots to the shoulder were manageable, but he knew he would pass out from blood loss if his thigh went untreated. Next to him, a small fire crackled. 

Examining his leg, Snake looked for an exit wound... there was none. Sighing in disappointment, he drew is knife. Applying pressure to his thigh, Snake searched for the bullet; pushing and prodding his muscle with great torment until a hard metallic object was discovered. Breathing slowly to calm his racing heart, he lowered the knife to his leg. The sharp blade sliced through the skin and muscle easily, as if it was a wet sponge. Colors of red and orange flashed behind his eyes as he pressed the blade deeper, stopping when his hand began to shake. A few labored breaths, and he continued. 

The knife scratched against the bullet when he found it. It was deeper than he had expected; any deeper and it would have been to far for his knife to reach. Getting the blade underneath the bullet was a difficult task, having to push it around within his leg, but ultimately he found it. With the bullet out of his thigh, Snake wiped the blade off on his fatigues before setting it down in the fire next to him; waiting as it heated the blade of the knife. Pulling it out, Snake examined the red hot blade. It was emitting a faint glow. Unfortunately, the rebreather prevented him from putting anything in his mouth to bite down on. _Just don't bite your tongue off..._

Snake braced himself as he lowered the blade to the wound on his leg. He threw his head back against the wall when it made contact, his skin sizzling and bubbling as the hot blade cauterized the wound. He could feel himself blacking out... 

"Fuck!" Snake cried out from the self-induced torture, throwing the knife across the room. 

The muscle in his leg was throbbing, but the deed was done. Snake's breath had quickened, turning his attention outside in hopes that the silent city might calm his nerves. A light breeze fluttered over the rooftops.

A small amusement park sat a few blocks over. Snake could see it between the buildings. There was the ferris wheel - but he had already seen that, a bumper car rink, a carousel, and several other small fair rides. The park was decayed, eaten away by the corrosive material in the atmosphere. What was left were the rusty skeletons of the rides, sitting unkempt as they gradually fell apart. The wooded forrest just beyond the park had already began to retake it.

Below him, a patrol of enemy combatants moved through the street in a ‘V’ shape. Snake looked down on them, until they disappeared inside an adjacent building. He had taken cover inside one of the residential tower blocks, a couple of stories up. It wasn’t ideal, but the room provided enough cover to stay hidden. At least for the time being. It was only a matter of time before the soldiers found them. Snake wasn’t fool enough to believe they would call off the search. Not just for him… but because of her.

Snake looked towards Quiet when she crossed his mind. He had laid her on the ground near the corner of the room, using his own jacket as a pillow. Her eyes had moved when he rested her head, but she made no indication that she knew what was going on or who was handling her. The jumpsuit she had been wearing was already tossed to the side, though Snake had little hope of her regenerative abilities healing her from such a poor condition. His eye trailed over her body as he sat, lowering his head when he had seen enough. 

Looking back back outside, Snake scanned the city. It was as dead as it had been when he arrived, undisturbed by all the conflict and turmoil. He respected that. How something could remain completely calm despite all the chaos. If he had any hope of getting out of this godforsaken place, he would have to muster that same courage... for her.

He kept staring at the fair grounds. Buildings boxed it in on one side, and a forrest of dead trees on the other. But in between, there was open space… a sufficient amount. Snake flipped his radio on, "Devil Dog, how copy?" 

A moment of static silence. 

 _"Holy sh—... Boss? It's great to hear your voice. We've been circling the Cit—"_ Wire responded but was cut off by Snake. 

"Yah, I get it. Listen closely, there is a ferris wheel just north of me with lots of open ground.”

Static silence followed Snake's words.

 _"Yes... it’s here on the map.”_ Wire responded after a moment.

"Good. I am going to make my way there. When I give the signal, bring Devil Dog in to pick us up.”

 _"Roger that, Boss!"_  

Snake had only begun to push himself off the ground when the soldier came around the corner. The two locked eyes for a second, both surprised to have come across each other. Snake reached for his side arm but the mercenary fired first, uncontrolled bursts that ricocheted and splintered the wall behind Snake. 

Snake raised his weapon and pulled the trigger, his round catching the soldier in the gut. He continued to spray bullets as he stumbled back through the doorway, collapsing to the floor. Surprised he had not been hit, Snake limped to the soldier as he squirmed and writhed around; his finger still gripping the trigger of an empty weapon. 

Standing over him, Snake recognized the look in the man's eyes. The look of fear, death, and the desire to stay alive.

"Who do you work for?" Snake kneeled down close to the man. 

"Go... to hell!" The man's words were gargled behind his mask. Blood filling his lungs, no doubt. But it was english - perfect english.

"Don't make this unpleasant for yourself." Snake harshened his words as he tilted his head, making the shrapnel in his head much more defined to the dying soldier. 

The soldier did not speak, crying out in agony from the pain. Snake placed the barrel of his pistol against the soldiers bullet wound, pressing down against it. The man cried out louder, "AGGG— Okay, Okay.”

"Who?" Snake hissed, released the pressure.

"The Pentagon... I don't know any names!”

"That's not very specific." Snake pressed down on the wound again. 

"AGGG— That's all I know... I _SWEAR!_ ”

"Fine then…” Snake rose to his feet, extending his weapon towards the soldiers head. 

"NO—" 

The gunshot echoed through the hallway, lingering on the air. Snake sighed, lowering his weapon. The soldier was American, and that worried him. It confirmed their fears that Cipher was involved. But the soldier laying before him wasn't with Cipher. Snake raised a questionative eyebrow when he noticed the patch on the soldier’s uniform. It only consisted of three letters: _D.I.A._  

* * *

Snake ducked behind a car when he heard the group coming. Setting Quiet down, he peeked through the foggy windows as the soldiers rounded the corner. There were four of them, dressed identically in the same uniform from the man before. Snake was close enough to overhear their conversation.

Soldier 1: “How much longer? We’re beginning to lose the light.”

Soldier 2: “You heard the Major, we’re not leaving until we find them.”

Soldier 1: “I heard him. But the Soviets already pulled out, and that gunship took out a dozen of our own. What makes this prisoner so important.”

Soldier 3: “This _prisoner_ is the only person to have carried the english strain of the Vocal Cord parasite. It’s the key. Without it, the project can’t be completed.”

Soldier 1: “Then the Major is crazier than I thought. That parasite has only brought destruction to anyone who has touched it.”

Soldier 2: “And what makes you an expert?”

Soldier 1: “People talk. The stories are there, you just need to know where to look.”

Soldier 4: “Cut the chatter! Just got word Cutter was found dead in an apartment one block over. Move out!”

Snake watched the group until they disappeared around the corner, sinking back down behind the car. Glancing to Quiet, he let his thoughts wonder. _Who was the Major, and what is his project._

* * *

Snake laid Quiet down in a patch of grass, cupping her cheek with his palm before standing up. The ferris wheel towered over him. The fair ground was exactly as he had hopped for. There was a wide plot of land, encircled by the attractions. Reaching for his radio, “Devil Dog, I’m at the extraction point.”

 _“Roger that Boss. Hold tight, ETA 10 minutes.”_ Pequod responded.

Snake sighed, exhaling gradually as his muscles relaxed. Looking to where he had sat Quiet, he let a smile creep across his lips.

A loud pop echoed through the city like the crack of a whip. Snake felt the sting a second later. The bullet landed above his heart, with enough kinetic energy to knock him flat on his back. Snake gasped for air.

Every muscle in his body trembled as he dragged himself behind the nearest cover, a overturned bumper car. Sitting up, Snake placed his hand over the wound. Blood flowed out in a steady stream. Leaning his head back against the bumper car, Snake cursed under his breath.

The rumble of motorized vehicles could be heard, growing steadily closer. Snake peeked out from his cover when the engines stopped, there were four black sedans stopped at the edge of the fair grounds. Soldiers poured out of them, protecting the vehicles until the man in a black suit and tie emerged.

Snake reached for his rifle - _it wasn’t with him!_ Frantically scanning the area, he found it out in the open, sitting in a pool of his own blood.

“It’s Big Boss, right?” Snake peeked around the edge of the bumper car. The voice belonged to the man with a suit and tie. His english was flawless. “I didn’t believe it at first, but no mere man could have accomplished what you have today. I commend you for that; but you have still lost. Give me the girl and I’ll let you leave here with your life.”

Snake grunted, applying pressure to the wound. His thoughts were growing fuzzy but he had heard the man clearly. The world around him was beginning to spin, but he managed to draw his pistol.

“Big Boss, I know you can hear this. Come out, give me the girl. I have no desire to kill you… you weren’t supposed to be apart of this.”

Sneak glanced around his cover again. The man in a suit and tie pointed towards the ferris wheel, signaling to his soldiers. The group fanned out, entering the fair ground. Snake struggled as he rose to his feet. Staying crouched, out of sight, he backed away from the bumper car, moving behind a wooden shack that served as a ticket stand. The soldiers were growing closer, moving at a methodical pace.

Holstering his pistol, Snake closed his eye, listening to their footsteps. He slowed his breathing, sliding his knife out of its sheath without making a noise. There was a pair of boots, close. Snake struck before the soldier had a chance to react when he rounded the corner of the stand. Grabbing the barrel of his rifle, Snake sunk the blade of his knife into the side of the man’s neck. His cry was gargled behind the blood filling his lungs. Snake ripped the rifle from his hands as he collapsed to the ground.

Snake ducked behind his cover as the soldiers opened fire. The stand was made of light material, splintering and splitting apart under the pressure of the enemy fire. Snake lost his balance as the bullets began to blow through.

Leaning out of his cover, Snake fired a controlled burst of suppressing fire, forcing the enemy soldiers to move for their own. The second of cease fire was all the time he needed to get away from the wooden shack, jumping up to the deck of the ferris wheel, hunkering down behind one of the pods.

“Big Boss! It doesn’t have to be this way!” The man in the suit and tie yelled across the field. “Surrender yourself!”

“Go fuck yourself!” Snake cried back, breaking his silence.

The man snickered to himself, shaking his head. “Pity. Kill him, bring me the girl!”

The soldiers opened fire. The pod began to vibrate as the barrage of bullets ricocheted off of it. In his head, Snake counted down from three, leaning out from his cover when he got to zero. He only exposed himself for a second, squeezing the trigger as a stream of bullets sprayed into the approaching crowd. He landed a few hits before retreating to safety. They sounded like the pop of a paintball gun.

 _“Move your Ass, Boss! We’re coming in hot!”_ A familiar voice cracked through Snake’s earpiece. He looked to the sky.

Devil Dog crested over the rooftops, the sounds of battle having muffled its approach. It arched its way around the fair, gliding hard towards the ground. Breaking from cover, Snake unloaded the rest of his magazine into the crowd of distracted soldiers before discarding the weapon.

Returning to Quiet, Snake scooped her back into his arms, flinching when several rounds landed nearby. Devil Dog thundered overhead, close enough that the wind from its rotors almost pushed Snake to the ground though this time he remained unshakable. A never ending stream of fire spat out of the mini-gun, its barrel glowing red hot like a sword pulled fresh from the forge. The helicopter began its descent, lowering its ramp in the rear. Snake watched as Wrench walked down it, wearing full combat fatigues, jumping from the helicopter before it had even touched down. 

She landed heavily in the mud and dirt, moving as if her prosthetic leg was of no hindrance to her. A smile crossed her face as she raised her rifle against her shoulder, firing on the enemies. "Boss, I got you covered! Get to the chopper!" 

Devil Dog touched down a short distance away. Doc stood out on the ramp, motioning them forward with the wave of his hand. Adjusting the weight of the girl in his arms, Snake ran for the helicopter. Each step was accompanied with the throbbing ache in his muscles, but he pushed through it, gritting his teeth and finding what adrenaline he had left. Wrench followed behind, firing from her rifle.

Snake almost collapsed when he entered Devil Dog’s cabin, but Doc and Wire caught him, helping carry Quiet away. The space rattled and echoed with the sounds of bullets ricocheting off of the helicopters steel body. 

"GO, GO!" Wrench remained on the ramp, firing her weapon. 

Devil Dog jerked as it began rising into the air. Snake looked towards Wrench who had ceased fire and began walking up the ramp, chuckling to herself. Snake didn't need to see her smile behind her rebreather, he knew it was there; he had one as well. 

A spark... 

A loud pop... 

Crimson red splattered across the cabin walls... 

Snake's breath hitched as he watched her eyes fill with blood. Collapsing to the ground, Wrench rolled down the ramp and plummeted towards the earth below. 

“NOOOO...!"

It had happened so fast.... 

 

* * *

 

It was still dark outside when the rumble of the helicopters glide rocked Snake awake. He didn't mind, it had been a restless night anyway. Thoughts of Wrench crossed his mind, but he pushed them away. He had already dealt with so much in the past 24 hours, thoughts of another lost life were too much to bear. _You can't grow attachments with your men_ he always told himself. War is war, and people die. She would be mourned when they returned to base. 

But this wasn't the case for the girl laying next to him. Looking over, Snake stared at Quiet's motionless form on the medical cot. He blinked when he noticed her hand cupped within his own, having forgot that he had fallen asleep caressing her soft fingers. 

_I don't understand these feelings. You're an assassin... sent to kill me. I am a broken man... just trying to find my place in this world. Why do you haunt my dreams at night?!_

Snake searched his mind desperately for an answer, but none could be found. It didn't matter. Leaning back in his seat, holding her hand in his own, he decided he didn't need one... he was happy with these feelings. 

He was happy she was finally safe. He could take care of her now. 

Devil Dog carried itself on the wind through the crisp and clear night. The rains had stopped, leaving everything clean and new, sparkling in the moon's blue light. 

 

* * *

 

"Over here! We found her!" 

The man in the suit stepped out of his car, happy that the body had been discovered but frustrated that he was getting his shoes muddy. 

His men stood in a circle as he walked towards them, looking over their shoulders at the lifeless figure embedded with in the dirt. His lips curled upwards when he saw the patch she wore. _Diamond Dogs..._  

"What are your orders, Major Ames?" 

Reaching down, the man in the suit tore the Diamond Dogs patch from the woman's arm; holding it up to his face. A beautiful diamond had been embedded near the bottom of it, glinting a small ray of light. The man finally spoke, his words cracking through the rebreather... 

"Inform The Patriots... we found him." 

 


	8. DAYS GONE BYE

**DAYS GONE BYE**

* * *

 

_"Tower, this is Devil Dog... requesting permission to land on Hanger 11. ETA... 20 minuets."_

_“Errr... Ummm... request received Devil Dog. Please stand-by for confirmation.”_

_"Roger that Tower."_

Snake sat silently in his seat as Devil Dog glided over the Arabian Sea. His eyelid was heavy and he could feel drowsiness wrapping him like a warm blanket. Next to him, Quiet lay on the cot, her body shifting slightly as the helicopter rocked with the wind. 

“Fascinating.” Doc said.

Snake looked towards him. Doc had spent the better part of the morning standing over the girl, studying the marks across her body whilst taking several tissue samples. Personally, Snake thought he should have finished several hours ago, but he continued. By this point, he had nothing better to do than shine a bright light into her almost lifeless pupils. 

"She seems to be in some sort of... self-induced coma." Doc continued. "I've never seen anything like this.”

Snake grunted, looking away. The rest of the crew was silent; with only the hum of the helicopter’s rotors to ease the tension. Every once in a while, turbulent winds would break against the chopper, creating the sensation of almost weightlessness as the gravity in the cabin adjusted. 

"Poor kid…" Snake looked towards Doc again, before following his line of sight to Wire. The boy sat in one of the chairs along the wall, bowed over with his head in his arms, resting on his knees. "He seem's to be taking Wrench's de—... He's taking it real hard.”

Snake listened to Doc but did not look at him as he spoke, keeping his eye on the boy. Thinking to himself, _death is a part of war. He's going to have to accept that..._  

* * *

Mother Base was like an emerald jewel, standing proud amongst a sea of blue as it appeared on the horizon. Looking through the cockpit window, Snake watched as it grew closer. There was construction tape strung across the decks and several shipping containers appeared to have been burst open. Damage from the monsoon storm, Snake suspected.

"Tower, this is Devil Dog... again, we are requesting permission to land on Hanger 11. Please confirm." 

The static silence that followed raised Snake’s suspicions. Diamond Dogs had never been so... _disorganized_ when it came to the Boss' personal transportation. 

_"Devil Dog, this is the Tower... your request is denied. You are under orders to redirect your flight path 50 miles out from Mother Base and hold position."_

"The' hell?" Pequod looked over his shoulder, giving a confused glance towards Snake. 

"Stay on course." Snake placed a hand on his pilot's shoulder. Pequod nodded in response. 

Snake kept his eye on Mother Base as they approached. There were soldiers, wearing combat gear and carrying automatic weapons, running across the decks; corralling civilians indoors. There was an alarm, faint but audible even within the cabin. Snake could hear it beating against his eardrums. Two UTH-66 Blackfoot helicopters flanked Devil Dog, following on both sides. Snake could see their mini-guns at the ready.

_"Boss!"_ Miller's voice cracked angrily in Snake's earpiece. Reaching for his iDroid, he turned the two-way radio on. 

"Kaz, what the hell's going on?" 

_"I'm sorry Boss, but I told you I was putting my foot down on this matter!"_

"Start explaining, Kaz." 

_"I know who you have on board, Ocelot told me everything. You’re bringing HER back!"_

Snake glanced towards Quiet's motionless form. Somehow he wasn't surprised this was what the trouble was about. 

_"Boss..."_ Miller spoke up again. _"I will not allow that Cipher BITCH to step foot on Mother Base. Not this time! Not under these circumstances!"_  

"Kaz lis—" 

_"NO, you listen!"_ Snake was taken back by his friends sudden boldness but did not protest, allowing him his opinion. _"It was different back then... but if she is truly alive, then she still carries the English strain of the Vocal Cord parasite. We have men, women, and children here; many who have not undergone the Wolbachia treatment. If you bring her aboard... you will doom them all."_  

Snake looked towards Quiet again; taking in the details of her scars and lacerations... the stitching that held her lips tightly closed. He hadn't considered..., placing his hand on his throat. 

_"Boss, if you bring that woman aboard... I will be forced to kill her. Please, do the right thing... for me... for your men."_

Snake lowered his eye to the ground, considering Miller’s words. Devil Dog's crew sat silent, their eyes focused on him as if waiting for an answer. _Had they heard the conversation... impossible. It doesn't matter..._ Snake looked to the girl laying next to him as he made up his mind. "Kaz... I am." 

Snake switched his radio off before Miller could reply. Leaning down, he gently picked Quiet up in his arms and walked to the rear of the helicopter. "Open it." 

Wasp complied with his Boss' orders, reaching for the ramp switch. The cabin lit up a deep red as the ramp hydraulics hissed, depressurizing the small space. Snake stood still as a gust of salty wind circled him. Mother Base passed below; the siren that sounded across the decks was louder than before. 

A rather large group had gathered on Hanger 11. Snake recognized Ocelot, Code Talker, and several dozen Diamond Dog soldiers; their weapons held at the ready. Standing front and center was Kazuhira Miller, a sharp scowl across his lips. 

"Boss! Your making a mistake!" Miller cried out, the wind carrying his voice to Snake's ears. 

Devil Dog landed on the deck with a heavy thud, shaking and rattling. Snake narrowed his brow as he slowly walked down the ramp, his eye meeting Millers. He recognized the reddening of his face, the tightening of his lips, the tensing of his muscles... his gaze bouncing between Snake and the girl in his arms. 

Everyone held their breath as Snake set foot on Mother Base. Miller threw his cane to the ground, flashing his teeth with lion like ferocity as he stole a sidearm from one of the soldiers standing next to him. An ensemble of surprised gasps cracked on the wind, but Snake didn't flinch as he stared down the barrel of the weapon. 

"Miller!" Ocelot broke from the crowd, gripping Miller’s shoulder.

"Stay out of this!" Miller shook Ocelot's hand off of him, not removing his eyes from Snake. 

Snake stepped close to his friend; close enough he could make out the rifling inside the barrel. A beat of sweat formed on Miller’s forehead as he lowered the weapon away from Snake, pointing it towards Quiet. The muscles in his trigger finger were beginning to tighten.

A light rattling sound hit Snake’s ears. The weapon in Miller’s hand was beginning to shake. His lips quivered as they began to curl in on each other and his eyes burned through his aviators as drops of sweat glazed over them.

Miller lowered his head, dropping the weapon to the deck with a heavy sigh of defeat. Ocelot reached down, grabbing the pistol quickly before he could change his mind. Snake did not look towards his friend as he walked past him, carrying the girl in his arms to the Medical Deck. The Diamond Dog soldiers parted like the Red Sea, allowing him to pass.

“Snake…" Miller called out, his voice cracking. Snake stopped, but did not face his friend. "I hope you know what you're doing.”

Snake continued through the crowd.

* * *

Quiet lay peacefully on a cushioned bed; Snake sat close by. They were on the medical deck, inside the ICU. Dusk had fallen and the room was colored with the cool hue of blue. Outside, the waves batted against the struts and the crisp aroma of the salty sea creeped through the open window. Snake did not take his eye off her, tapping his finger against the chair’s arm.

“You summoned me?”

Snake turned; Code Talker was at the door. He nodded, getting up from his seat.

"I had hoped my theory would be right..." Code Talker wheeled himself into the room, stopping when he was next to Snake and the bed. "But I didn't expect this." 

The old man lifted a finger, pointing at the scars and sores across her body. Following them as if he were connecting the dots. "You see... 'The One That Covers' is doing its job, but it is losing. This crack here..." The old man ran his finger along a deep cut like laceration that traveled up the inside of her thigh. "You can see where the epidermis is falling apart." 

"I don't understand." Snake spoke softly. 

"When you first came to me regarding her survival, I theorized that 'The One That Covers' would fight to keep her alive. Looking at her now, I know that is no longer a theory. The Vocal Cord parasite and ‘The One That Covers’ are in conflict. In the wilds of Africa, a lion pride is lead by a single, dominant male. When another challenges his dominance, they fight. One fights to protect his place in the pride, the other to take his place. Imagine two alpha predators fighting to the death; that is what you’re looking at.”

Snake grazed the tip of his fingers lightly against her cheek. “What about the stitching, on her lips? None of the others in the Black Site were treated the same.”

Code Talker did not respond at first, taking a moment to study her lips. They were swollen and and ashy, held together by stitch work that was less than professional. It was crude, and was beginning to fray. “I do not have an answer. Torture. Humiliation. Whatever the reason, it would not have stopped the spread of the English Strain.” 

Snake sighed as he lowered his head. "What can I do?" His words came from under his breath.

"I don't know yet..." 

“I need a cure.” Snake turned to face Code Talker, but the old man had already disappeared. He could hear the squeak of his wheelchair down the hall. Sighing, Snake grabbed a pair of stitching scissors and began cutting the strands of thread that held Quiet’s lips together. When he had completed, he could have sworn he heard a soft moan escape between her lips…

But he was sure it was just his imagination.

* * *

Mother base was silent. The moon was high in the sky. Snake sat slumped in a chair at the edge of Quiet’s bed, sleeping. He remained undisturbed when the door hissed open. A figure entered the room silently, draped in shadow. He stood next to Snake, hovering over Quiet. A pistol glistened under the rays of moonlight, drawn from behind his trench coat. He raised the weapon, holding it over the girl’s forehead, cocking the hammer—

Snake’s eye snapped open. In a heartbeat, he was on top of the figure, knocking the weapon fiercely from his hand as he hooked his fist violently into the man’s skull. The figure was unable to defend himself, stumbling backward before collapsing to the ground. Snake hovered over him, preparing to strike again, before realizing the man had stumbled into a ray of the moon’s light.

“K - Kaz?”

Snake stumbled back in surprise, struggling to find the chair he had been sitting in. There was a dull, throbbing pain in his skull. Like claws scratching at his brain. He collapsed into the chair, almost knocking it over.

Miller grunted as he pushed his back up against the wall. His cane was laid out next to him, but he made no attempt to reach for it. His breathing was labored and forced; he had hit the ground pretty hard. The two men’s eyes met. The stream of blue light that entered the room only touched half their faces, the other was shrouded in shadow. For the first time, Snake did not recognize the face of his friend.

“Why?” Snake spoke first. “I thought we were good?”

Miller remained silent. The room remained silent. The only sound to break the noiseless air was the low hum of the two men’s breathing. They were both uneven, out of sink… uncomfortable. Snake motioned to speak again, but Miller broke the silence. “Boss… you know I’ve got your back… I’ve always supported you… faithfully! But… you’ve grown unfocused, detached from everything we’ve built here!” The tone of his words grew harsher as he continued, raising his voice every other interval. “All because of HER, Boss!”

Snake leaned back in his chair, holding his head as the throbbing began to slow. He didn't noticed his prosthetic hand clinched into a fist.

“She’s the ENEMY!” Miller continued. “Always has been. Why can’t you see that?! We got lucky when she decided to leave… and here you are bringing her BACK! Bringing… the parasite back.”

“Code Talker is working on a cure.”

“How long!” Miller snapped. “How many people will you sacrifice? That group you brought back from the Black Site, they infected near-half the Quarantine platform alone, before succumbing to the infection.”

“When?” Snake spoke softly. “How many casualties?”

Miller groaned as he reached for his cane, awkwardly sliding up the wall until he was back on his feet. “Three days ago. We contained it, but some didn’t get treatment quick enough. They were put down on site.”

Snake turned his attention to Quiet, resting back in the chair. She glowed under the blue moon’s light. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“ _Are_ you? What happened to you Boss? You’re not the person you used to be.” Snake did not see Miller shake his head in disappointment before turning to the door. He only heard the light taps of Miller’s cane as he left the room.

“Kaz!” Miller stopped before the door closed behind him, turning to face Snake. “Do not come near this room again.”

Miller disappeared down the hallway. The room fell silent again. The ocean could be heard outside, batting gently against the platform struts.

Snake noticed the pistol laying on the floor next to him. Getting up from his seat, he picked it up. He was surprised, the weight was not equal to that of a loaded gun. Sliding the magazine out, he turned it over in his hand, discovering that there were no bullets in it. Pulling the slide cover back, a single bullet ejected from the weapon.

_Only one in the chamber. He intended to fire only once._

Snake screamed, loud enough to wake the dead, throwing the pistol across the room. He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, sitting in his chair, facing the door.

* * *

Shotmaker sat restrained to a chair in the center of the room. Snake paced around him. Their conversation, so-far, had been tiresome. Snake told the him how he rescued Quiet, and he seemed seemed genuinely surprised. He asked about the man in the black suit and the symbols on the soldier’s patches: D.I.A. Still, Shotmaker had no answers. Perhaps he was lying. If he was, Snake could not see it on his face.

“Are we done here?” Shotmaker asked.

“For now.” Snake exited the room.

Ocelot was standing in the adjacent room, looking through the one-way glass. He had watched their conversation. “Do you believe him?” He spoke when Snake entered.

“Shotmakers a merc.” Snake stood next to Ocelot, looking through the glass. “Whomever he’s working for isn't going to be paying him now, and any information he’s holding onto is no longer of benefit to him. I doubt he has a reason to lie.”

“Then what do you want to do Boss?”

“You still have contacts back in the States?”

“Of course.”

Snake turned to face Ocelot. “D.I.A. Start with that. Figure out what it stands for, who runs it. Why are they interested in the Vocal Cord parasite.”

Ocelot nodded, turning to exit the room.

“One more thing.” Snake grabbed his shoulder. “In Pripyat, the soldiers mentioned someone called the _Major._ ”

“I’ll start looking into it, Boss.”

 

* * *

 

The days that followed passed slowly; the seconds, minutes, and hours feeling as if they stopped moving, frozen in time. Snake had completely removed himself, becoming a phantom to his men; spending the passing hours between his private quarters and Quiet’s medical room. Even the doctors had grown accustomed to his schedule, leaving him alone with her whenever he entered. They didn't know what he did when he was alone... and they never asked. 

Miller had removed himself from public sight equally as much; spending his time in the command center, staring out at the sunrise and sunset from the grand wall of windows that circled half of the room. 

It was on one of these occasions that Snake joined him, walking up next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. The sun was setting on the horizon, with rays of orange light that streamed blindingly through the window. Supporting his cane between his arm, Miller reached for his aviators with an unsteady hand, shaking slightly as he removed them from his face. Hidden behind his shades were his milky white eyes, enlarged and dilated as the light entered them. 

"The brightness... the burn in my eyes... it reminds me that I'm still alive.” Snake remained silent as Miller spoke softly. "The phantom pain... I can still feel it. It follows me during the day, and haunts me at night." 

Snake averted his gaze from the light on the horizon, turning towards Miller, tightening his grip on his friend’s shoulder. “We need to talk. About the other night.”

"I can stand here, gazing into the sun, and feel real... raw pain." Miller took his eyes off of the horizon, shifting to meet Snake's. "Do you know what it's like to live every day feeling broken? Empty inside? Like your missing a part of yourself." 

“Yes, I struggled for a long time. But I didn't realize it until..." Snake spoke softly, his words trailing off as his thoughts turned to Quiet. 

"Until... she came back." Miller finished Snake's sentence, turning back towards the horizon as the sun began to sink below the endless ocean. 

When the sun had disappeared, Miller returned his aviators to his face. Releasing his shoulder, Snake watched as his friend turned and began to slowly limp away. He had hoped for a more positive conversation, but he could still sense the bitterness dripping from Miller's tongue. _Another time them…_

 

* * * 

**Three Weeks after Quiets Return**

The rising sun on the horizon was warm and comforting, signaling the end of the cold season as the year began to come to a close. Regardless, a cool breeze still swept across the ocean’s surface, tightening Snake's muscles as it broke against him. 

Standing on the deck, watching the birth of a new day, Snake sipped on a fresh cup of coffee. He smiled as the warm liquid entered his body, energizing and rejuvenating his stiff muscles. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder. It belonged to Ocelot. "Just got out of a meeting with Miller, he says you’re going soft.”

Snake glanced at the cowboy for only a brief second before returning to the horizon, grunting in response. 

“Boss, if the old man can't come up with a cure... somethings going to have to be done.”

“He’s working on it.” Snake was now drinking his coffee in large gulps.

“Progress is slower than Miller would like. Those men from the Black Site, their all dead. We don’t have a lot left to work with. If he doesn't come up with a cure to the Eng—“

"I know!" Snake snapped with a hiss, cutting Ocelot off. 

Sighing, the Ocelot turned his attention to the sparkling ocean. They stood in silence. When his drink had run dry, Snake held the cup in his hands for a moment before throwing it out to sea.

“R&D was wondering what was becoming of all their cups.” Ocelot laughed. Snake couldn’t hold back his smile. "I think,” Ocelot continued, "when the year ends, I'm going to make a New Years Resolution in studying the art of shooting 'things' with my fingers." 

As he spoke, the cowboy raised his right hand; extending his pointer and middle finger like they were the barrel of a gun, and his thumb acting as the hammer.

”Bam!" He flicked his thumb forward, popping his hand upwards as he pretended to shoot. 

"What?" A confused expression crossed Snake's face, though it was mixed with a humorous smile.

"No, seriously, I could own the whole goddamn system." 

The two men shared a laugh before returning their attention to the horizon and sinking back into silence. They stayed like this, enjoying the warming rays of the sun, for several minutes before Ocelot brought his hand to the radio in his ear. 

"Say again?" Snake watched as his blissful expression turned brooding. "Shit!" 

"Everything okay?" Snake spoke calmly though he could sense something was up. 

Ocelot stayed in thoughtful silence for a moment, his eyes wide as if he had seen a ghost. Blinking, he looked towards Snake... 

"She's awake..." 

* * *

Whatever Snake had hoped for walking into Quiet's room, it was not what he witnessed. Stepping through the door, he was greeted with the frenzied panic of doctors and nurses calling out to each other and moving around hastily. At the center of the commotion, Quiet lay on a blood-soaked cot, her muscles twitching and writhing violently. Several nurses stood by her, holding her arms down to prevent her from throwing herself off the bed. Her head shook and snapped violently in all directions. Amongst the commotion, Snake could swear he heard gargled screams coming from within her throat.

"What happened?!" Ocelot stepped through the door, pushing Snake to the side as he merged himself with the frenzied group. 

"Her brain activity just suddenly spiked." One of the doctors gave a concerned reply. "Next thing I know, she's having a seizure." 

"Doctor, I have the relaxant you asked for." A nurse appeared in the doorway behind Snake, a glass vial in her hand. 

"No!" Ocelot snapped. "You need to let her ride through it." 

Snake was beginning to feel helpless, just standing there, watching as she jerked uncontrollably on her bed. Watching as the cracks and sores across her body opened up, spilling fresh blood to the cold floor below. Watching as the doctors and nurses were useless in releasing the pain. Closing his eye, Snake breathed deeply in an attempt to reduce his vexation. It was of little use. Clenching his fist, he wanted to punch the wall but knew better than to make a scene. Storming out of the room, he could only think of one place to go... 

He had to see the old man. 

* * *

Whatever organization he had possessed in the past, had been thrown out the window as the days turned into weeks. Code Talker's lab had turned into a mess of notes and research papers, scattered about, amongst a collection of various lab equipment and other items. The old man lamented the thought of his lab being in such disarray, but the work was important and he could make sacrifices. 

Stepping into the room, Snake was not surprised when he was instantly greeted by the old man, having grown used to his ability to sense when he was coming. 

"Code Talker..." Snake entered the room slowly, his eye roaming around the cluttered space.

"Boss, I trust you are here about my research." The old man watched as Snake paced around the room. 

"I need the cure." Snake gave a quick glance towards Code Talker before turning his attention to a dusty book that sat in front of him. 

"I am sorry... but I have none." 

Snake did not look up as he thumbed through the pages, a plume of dust kicking up with each flick of his thumb. Code Talker watched him somberly for a moment before lowering his head to his notes. "Please don't throw my book."

Snake shifted his gaze towards the old man, raising an eyebrow before noticing his prosthetic hand was in fact clenched tightly shut. 

"My parasite... it can sense your anger... your frustration. You want to save her but don't know how." Code Talker backed away from the table, looking up at Snake who had closed the book with an exasperated sigh. 

"There must be something." Snake continued pacing the room, making his way around the table. 

"I have... another theory.”

"Why didn't you tell me..." Snake's frustrated words rolled off his tongue with a deep rumble. 

"You asked simply for a cure... of which I do not have." 

Code Talker didn't flinch as Snake slammed his prosthetic hand against the table, sending a large crack through it that extended its length. 

"I don't have time for your riddles, old man! I need... results!” Snake choked on his words as he glared at Code Talker. 

The old man simply bowed his head, exhaling a smooth whistle as he pushed a leather journal across the table. Curious, Snake stepped towards it. His eye grazed over each line, but he could not understand the scribbled words and randomly placed equations. Code Talker recognized his confused expressions, settling in his chair as he spoke slowly. "'The One That Covers', and the Vocal Cord parasite used to live in harmony with-in the girl, but now... they destroy each other in an attempt for dominance. Her survival depends on you ensuring 'The One That Covers' is the strongest." 

"How?" Snake looked up from the journal. 

"You need an unmodified sample of the parasite... pure and undamaged. There is a place, though it will be dangerous…" The old man leaned forward in his chair, his unseeing eyes staring lifelessly into Snake’s. "You must find, and harvest a sample... from The Skulls." 

 


	9. REMINISCENCE

**REMINISCENCE**

* * *

 

"Annabelle..." 

_Who calls for me?_

"Wake up Annabelle..." 

_Where am I?_

"Sweety, you don't want to be late for class..." 

_Mom?_

The girl’s eyes fluttered open, the light of day greeting her with the sight of a warm, comforting smile. The woman standing over her appeared middle-aged, but had features that resembled her own: soft as velvet and smooth as silk.

"Come, Annabelle, you will be late for class." The woman smiled as she stood up, motioning towards the door. 

"Yes, I'm getting up." The girl replied, her voice accented and sweet like candy. 

The woman nodded before walking through the door, disappearing around the corner. The girl remained in her bed, for a moment more, scanning the room as her eyes adjusted to the bright morning light. It was just as she had left it the night before... messy. 

Heeding her mother’s words, she motioned to get out of bed… but she could not move. Her legs, she could feel them, lying there in the sheets, but her muscles did not respond. It was as if there was a greater force holding her down, restraining her to the bed.

A thunderous roar vibrated the walls around her, cracking them, and collapsing them into a smoldering pile of ash. There was a screech, like the cry of a wild animal in its final moments. There was a hospital, fire, and a demon black as night. When the dust settled, the room had transformed into a bleak and damp dungeon; with steel walls that towered into oblivion, and rusty chains hanging down like a web of fingers.

Horrified, she held her hands close to her face as if to hide from the nightmare, but the sight of her own fingers was even more horrific than what she had witnessed moments before. She watched, helpless, as her skin cracked and bubbled, sizzling as if she was on fire... yet she felt no pain, and could see no flame. The desire to scream was monumental, but there was no air behind her tongue. 

"You're awake... good..." 

The disembodied voice came from the shadows; all of them as it echoed around the steel walls of the room. When she saw the speaker, he was framed in the doorway; shadowed by a light behind him. As he grew closer, he revealed himself to her. 

She stared, terrified, at the man without a face; his skin grayed and scarred beyond repair. _Skull Face._ She had heard the name amongst rumors and whispers, but had never seen him in her time with XOF. 

_XOF..._

Like the opening of flood gates, memories of herself before this point came rushing back. Her job. Her mission. Her failure. Her... death! The pain was real now, she could feel it. Looking at her hands again, she was helpless as the fire melted her skin, peeling it away from her bones. Still, she could not scream... 

"Child, why do you worry. You are not dead, but far from it." She looked at the man as he spoke. "I have given you a new life, a new body... and all that I ask in return is that you destroy the man that will stand in my way." 

_A new body?!_

The girl raised her hands once more. They were perfect, undamaged, and as soft as... velvet. She wished to thank him, but the man placed a finger on her lips before she could speak, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "There is... one condition to my generosity. You mustn't speak to anyone, ever. To utter a single word of your native tongue will destroy this gift I have given you. To that end, from henceforth, you shall simply be known... as 'Quiet'." 

The man stretched his arm out when he finished speaking, holding his hand open in front of her. If she had any other choices, she couldn't see them. To accept his hand now would open a new life for her, to decline would return her to a fate that had already been decided. She clasped his hand with her own, making up her mind. 

A smile crossed the man's scarred face as he pulled her up from the bed... 

Light enveloped them, blinding her as if she had instantly woken up under the sun. The walls around them were gone, and the bed had disappeared. Scanning the scenery, she recognized where they now stood. 

_Afghanistan..._

"This is where you made your next stand." The man spoke to her, pointing atop a crumbling archway that rose high over the landscape. "See, there you are. Waiting for your target... for the perfect shot." 

It was like staring into the reflection of a mirror, watching herself perched on one of the archways, weapon at the ready. It was her, in body and ability, but not of mind. There was something wrong about her... something that she could not yet put her finger on, as if the woman on the arch carried different thoughts... a different purpose than what she believed now. Looking back at the man, he had turned his attention to the road in the distance. 

"Here he comes." He spoke. "Your target. The man that destroyed your past life... the man that will end me should you fail." 

The figure came into view on the horizon, riding an ashen white horse. He was heavily built, with muscles that stood defined even behind his olive colored fatigues. His hair was long and brittle from the dry heat, but it was tastefully tied back into a ponytail that suited him well. His eye was sparkling blue, like that of a crystal refracting light that bounced off of it. She could feel her head growing dizzy as she stared into it. But he was not without imperfection. His face was riddled with deep scars, not as severe as the man she stood with, but to be carried for the rest of his life. More noticeable was the eyepatch he sported on the right side of his face, covering what she presumed was a bad eye. Lastly, she noticed his most unnatural feature... it was like a horn sticking out at an angle in his head, black as the empty void of space. She had never seen anything like it. The only word that could describe it... would be demonic. 

The crack of a sniper rifle broke the silence. The man with the horn took cover. Another shot, and another miss. 

"To give away your position was your first mistake. How did you miss?" The scarred man spoke, watching as the two engaged in battle. 

"I was distracted..." Her accented words cracked from behind her tongue softly, remembering the events that unfolded in front of her. "The man... I did not expect such a dramatic change since the last time I saw him... since the hospital. He was... magnificent." 

The battle ended as soon as it had begun, the sniper defeated and on the brink of death as she stumbled to the stone ground. The girl watched as the man with the horn stood triumphant over his enemy, drawing his pistol and aiming it towards her head. He did not shoot... 

"Do it... do it now... end it!" The scarred man's whispered words hissed through is teeth, as if he was speaking to the man with the horn; or perhaps... the defeated sniper, who began to draw her own weapon and weakly raise it to her temple before having it forcefully taken by the man standing over her. 

"That was the beginning of the end... for both of us." The scarred man looked towards the girl as he spoke. "His act of mercy... right in that moment... is what changed everything." 

There was a long pause as the scarred man turned away from the girl; the Afghan fields beginning to collapse around them. What had moments ago seemed so real, drifted away like a distant memory. The scarred man turned back to the girl. "You could have escaped... but you didn't." 

In an instant, the two found themselves standing inside the cabin of a helicopter, the hum of the engine deafening the girl’s ears. Looking around, she noticed the man with the horn sitting somberly in his seat, not but several feet from her. He did not see her, nor the scarred man she stood with. 

The sound of a high pitched beep echoing through the cabin caught the man's attention, jolting from his seat as radio chatter crackled through the static. 

"Confirm, one bogey on our six, steady at point four miles." The girl could sense concern behind the pilots word's. "It's tailing us..." 

_"Don't lead it back to Mother Base."_ Another voice cracked through the console radio. 

"Roger. We'll shake it off." The girl could admire the pilots dedication, but she couldn't help but wonder how a helicopter had any hope of outmaneuvering a fighter jet. 

Regardless of the danger, the pilot hit the stick hard to the right, turning the chopper sharply. The girl looked towards the scarred man, his lips were curling into a sharp smile.

The fighter jet opened fire. Its chain gun rattled, rounds ricocheting off the chopper’s armor. It roared overhead, banking quickly to come around again. Keeping his eye on it, the man with the horn moved to the helicopter’s door, a concerned expression plastered across his face. The girl hadn't seen weakness in him before... but here... she recognized the look of helpless fear. The same expression he had given her in the hospital. 

"INCOMING!" 

A flash of light flared from the fighter jet as it lined up again, releasing a rocket from its payload. The man with the horn slid the door open as the missile quickly approached, leaving a trail of white smoke that plumed behind it. The dreadful whizzing sound the rocket made as it pierced the air grew louder as it grew closer to impact. 

The helicopter’s countermeasures kicked in with seconds to spare. A stream of flairs rained down to the ocean's surface, jettisoning from the chopper with a loud pop. The missile veered off course, following the heat of the flairs away from the chopper. The cabin vibrated as the fighter jet passed overhead. The man with the horn turned to the opposite door, sliding it open as he watched the jet bank towards them again. 

"ANOTHER ONE!" 

A flash of light, followed by a trail of white smoke, as another rocket launched from the jet. Again, hot flairs popped from the helicopter as its countermeasures kicked in, but the rocket did not deviate course. 

"Shit. It's an LGM! Hold on!" 

The helicopter rocked violently as the pilot began evasive maneuvers, knocking the man with the horn off balance before he could reach for the chopper’s mini gun. The girl watched as he frantically got back to his feet, the rocket inching closer with each passing second. For a brief moment, she thought he might have gained control, but his grip was torn from the gun as the chopper jerked to the side again, sending him to floor with a hard thud. 

It was all over... 

She could see the realization on the man's face as he watched the mini gun swing out of position. Even if he managed to return to his feet, there would be no more time. The rocket was about to send them all plummeting towards the sea. 

_Why would he bring me here?_

The girl looked towards the scarred man, but his eyes remained fixed on the approaching missile. 

_You could have escaped... but you didn't._ His words rang through her head as if they were on repeat.

_I WAS HERE! I WAS THE REASON!_

She had barely just remembered the events of that day before a figure appeared before them. It was her mirror, gripping the mini gun tightly as it screamed to life. The rocket exploded. The man with the horn, still on the ground, looked towards the girl that had materialized moments before... shock and surprise clear across his face. 

"After your defeat… I sent that fighter jet to finish the job." The scarred man spoke, drawing the attention of the girl that stood next to him. "In a blatant act of betrayal, you shot it down. Why?" 

The crack of a rifle echoed through the small space. The jet dipped below the helicopter, crashing into the ocean. The girl’s mirror took her seat, handed over the rifle, and personally restrained herself. The man with the horn didn’t even speak to her.

"Why?" The scarred man hissed again but the girl did not look towards him, keeping her eyes on the man with the horn. She could see he was deep in thought. Trying to figure her out, perhaps. Even now, she had to admit, she wasn’t sure what had possessed her to do it. 

"It would have killed me as well..." She finally spoke, her words soft and unsure of themselves. 

"If you still believed in our cause, you would have willingly gone down with this helicopter... there was another reason." 

"If there was another... I don't know..." 

"You will." 

The dry air was moistened by the dew of a heavy fog as the hum of the helicopter faded away with the gentle patter of rain. The girl looked around her new surroundings, recognizing the make-up of Mother Base and the platforms that stretched out before her. 

"What are you showing me now?" She questioned, looking towards the scarred man. 

He did not respond with words, stretching the palm of his hand out to the side. The girl looked to where he pointed. She saw a girl, herself, playfully dancing in the rain. Another approached, the man with the horn. She watched as the two began to splash each other. She could hear their laughter. She could see their smiles. She could remember their happiness. Tears swelled in the girl’s eyes, but the drops of rain hid them as they trailed down her face. She forced herself to turn away.

"What's the point? He was there... I had a moment of happiness!" She pleaded for an answer.

Mother Base, the rain, the two falling into each others arms... it all faded away, leaving the girl and the scarred man alone within an empty void. There was no up or down, right or left; they simply... were. 

The scarred man remained silent, looking disappointedly towards the girl that could no longer hide the tears streaming down her cheeks. "You had more than just happiness." He finally spoke. "Everything I showed you before... it was building up to this moment... the moment you made your final decision." 

The girl closed her eyes, lowering her head. "That I loved... him" Her voice cracked.

The two stood in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time, though she could not tell how long. The void was endless. 

"What was the point? Of any of it?" The girl finally spoke, looking towards the scarred man. "Bringing me back to life? Infecting me with your parasite?" 

The scarred man glared towards the girl before his expression softened. Sighing, he slowly removed his hat, revealing his bald and mangled features. Though there was nothing behind him, he sat, appearing as if he was floating in thin air."Annabelle, my child, you were nothing more than an... experiment gone rogue. I infected you with the English strain of the Vocal Cord parasite to test how it would interact with a human subject. Before, when Zero was in control of Cipher, the Vocal Cord experiment had been created to target every language except English as a deterrent more potent than nuclear weapons; I had to start from scratch. You understand? You were just a test... a successful one if it makes you feel any better." 

The scarred man's words were like a knife to her chest. She dropped to her knees as her energy drained away. "But... you used me... I thought I was your agent?" 

"A convenient cover. With the experiment complete, I needed you disposed off... too dangerous to have an active subject out in the field, but... I also need the threat of Big Boss taken care of. Had everything gone to plan, I would have gotten both my desires. Of course, there was only one thing I had not considered." 

The girl could not respond, stunned into silence. She could barely digest his words, feeling as if she wanted to vomit. 

“I didn’t expect you to fall for him, I’ll admit. The man that killed you. After your betrayal, the Vocal Cord parasite should have been my ace in the hole; final insurance if you will. But you never spoke, not even once. I must commend you though... leaving him like you did, in order to protect him." 

“I did it because I loved him." 

Like the vanishing of snow against a warm ground, the man with the scarred face was gone. The girl was alone, sitting on her knees. She felt helpless. There was a churning pain in her stomach, swelling through her body until there was nothing she could do but wrap her arms around her sides and groan. She cried until her eyes swelled and turned red.

"Quiet..." 

The voice surprised her, coming from behind. Turning quickly, she locked eyes with a man she had not expected to see. He was recognizable immediately. "Snake...?" Her voice was soft and shaky.

"I know what you are thinking..." There was something in the way he spoke. His voice was deep and gravely, but the tone of his words carried concern. "Your life... it was not meaningless. It meant something to me... _you_ meant something to me." 

She rose to her feet, still shaking and holding her sides. But she no longer thought about the pain as the man with the horn approached her. He crossed the empty void between them slowly. Each step reverberated with a deep rumble; the echo’s sent shivers down her spine. He stopped, raising his hand to her cheek. The girl closed her eyes, cooing softly as she nuzzled his rough, but warm palm. The pain had all but evaporated. She felt at peace.

“Please," The man with the horn spoke to her. His voice was softer this time; calmer. "Come back to me." 

Everything disappeared... 

The girl’s eyes shot open, blinded at first by the intense saturation of colors and lights. In short time, they adjusted to her surroundings. People came into focus, many of them. Their mouths hung agape, with eyes wide and bulging.

_Where am !!? What’s going on!?_

She tried to cry out, but she could not. Her throat felt as if it were on fire. First came the claustrophobia, then the panic. Then she saw him. His face appeared from behind the rest. She stared at him, and he stared back… a smile crossing his lips.

 


End file.
